


More Than Words

by Yatzstar



Category: Inhumans (Comics), Inhumans (TV 2017), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-11-30 01:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 67,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11452725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatzstar/pseuds/Yatzstar
Summary: Medusa is betrothed to Black Bolt, the mute Crown Prince of Attilan. In coming to know (and eventually love) each other, obstacles will be faced along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

Medusalith Amaquelin let a lock of vibrant red hair twist around her fingers as she gazed at the Royal Palace, a nervous habit of hers.  
“Stop that,” her sister nine-year-old Crystalia muttered, elbowing her in the side. “You know Mother doesn't like it when you do that.”  
“Oh, right.” Medusalith—or Medusa as she preferred to be called—willed her hair to relax as they approached the massive gates.  
It was an auspicious day, which caused no small amount of nerves on Medusa’s part. She was finally eighteen, the eligible age for marriage, and today was the day her family came to terms with the betrothal of her to a prince of the Royal Family. She was technically part of the Royal Family as well, via a complicated string of marriages she could never keep straight, so she was eligible to keep the Royal Bloodline going.  
“I hope he looks nice,” Crystal murmured.  
“Crystal!” Medusa scolded, her cheeks flushing red at her sister’s unseemly words. She was to be proud to be betrothed to a royal prince, regardless of his physical appearance.  
“There are two princes, and one of them is locked away because of his powers. Few have ever seen him,” Crystal chattered on. “I wonder which one you'll marry?”  
“The eldest,” Medusa said, “whichever that one is.”  
She had heard many tales and rumors surrounding one of the princes of Attilan. Uncontrollable power…being sealed away…rigorous training…being exposed to Terrigen Mists in the womb…but they were all rumors. No one knew for sure why one of the princes of Attilan never showed himself.  
Crystal grabbed her arm, jerking her from her thoughts and stopping her in her tracks, saving her from walking straight into her father's back. They had stopped, for they were standing at the gates of the Royal Palace.  
“My Lord Quelin,” said one of the sentries, bowing so deeply the crest of his helmet nearly scraped the ground. “My Lady Ambur, my Lady Medusalith, and my Lady Crystalia.”  
Medusa and Crystal curtsied automatically, formalities having been ingrained in them long ago.  
“And of course, my Lordship Lockjaw,” finished the sentry.  
Crystal’s massive Inhuman dog woofed in acknowledgment from his stance behind the two girls.  
The gates were opened, and they stepped into the Royal Palace of Attilan. Medusa felt her heart speeding up as she gazed upon the high arched hallway, lined with murals and various other paintings of bygone royalty. Reality was beginning to set in. This would be her life from now on.  
Seeming to sense her anxiety, Crystal slipped a small hand into her own. In that moment, Medusa had never been more thankful for a little sister.  
It seemed to take an eternity for them to reach the end of the hallway. Another set of double doors opened up for them, and they entered the Throne Room.  
King Agon was seated upon a high dais, sitting straight and tall in his throne, the very picture of kingly majesty. Queen Rynda stood to his left, just as majestic and noble as he, her figure poised with an elegance Medusa could never hope to achieve. To the king’s right stood a young man with dark hair and a well-sculpted face, also regal. Medusa felt her heart skip a beat as she gazed upon him. It was obviously one of the princes, but which one? Regardless, his appearance was somewhat pleasing to look upon, despite a strange glitter in his eyes.  
“Lord Quelin!” Agon exclaimed, rising from his throne and descending the dais, his family swift to follow suit. “It is good to see you, cousin.”  
“And you, King Agon,” Quelin returned, bowing amicably.  
“Surely this is not little Medusalith!” exclaimed Agon, turning his attention upon Medusa. “I have not seen you since you were but a little thing!”  
Medusa curtsied. “Yes, my king.”  
He came closer and looked her up and down with a smile. “My, you have grown into such a beautiful young lady. What is your power, my dear?”  
Medusa blushed, disliking mentioning her powers. “Er, just controlling my hair is all, my lord.” As she said this, the prince’s lips twisted upwards in a smirk, which made her blush all the harder and dick he head in shame.  
“I'm not surprised,” said Agon kindly. “You always had such beautiful hair.” He turned to the members of his family. “Though you most likely do not remember, this is Queen Rynda.”  
Medusa curtsied again, and Rynda curtsied stiffly in return. Her countenance was much colder and stiffer than her husband’s, and Medusa tried to avoid her steely gaze.  
Agon pressed a hand to the back of the prince, urging him forwards. “And this is Prince Maximus.”  
Maximus stepped forward and took Medusa’s hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. She blushed wildly, and somewhere began her Crystal made a strangled sound at the unexpected gesture.  
“It is a pleasure to meet you, fair lady,” he said, his voice smooth and even.  
“A-and you,” Medusa returned, inwardly kicking herself for stuttering.  
“She is to be betrothed to him?” Quelin asked.  
Maximus’ face contorted into an unknown expression, and he stepped away from Medusa.  
“No,” Agon said gently. “Our other son, Blackagar, is the Crown Prince and to whom Medusalith will be betrothed.”  
Blackagar. The name was familiar to Medusa now that she heard it. It was a name whispered in juncture with the rumors surrounding one of the princes of Attilan. She couldn't help but feel disappointed. So Maximus would not be the one she would betrothed to; it had come as a relief to see he was chivalrous and polite. For all she knew, Blackagar could be a horrible person.  
“Well where is he?” Quelin asked, a note of confusion entering his voice.  
“Unfortunately, Blackagar does not yet seem to have suitable control over his powers.” Queen Ronda spoke for the first time, her voice as cold as her countenance. “Until we are certain of his control, he will not be making any appearances.”  
Her words hung heavy in the air. The rumors were true. Medusa felt a dread coiling in the bit of her stomach. How could she be expected to marry a man who could not control his powers?  
“How long will it be?” Quelin asked.  
“We do not know,” Rynda responded. “But it will be until we are certain he will not pose a threat to his betrothed or otherwise.”  
“Regardless, we shall continue with the formalities,” Agon said. “Shall we?”  
Medusa dared a glance at Crystal, who winced in sympathy. She could already feel her life slipping through her fingers.  
/  
The parents discussed formalities over dinner, while Maximus sat twirling his fork idly and looking bored. Medusa and Crystal ate quietly, their heads together as they talked, while Lockjaw sat ever present behind them.  
“I don't even know when I'll meet him, much less get to know him!” Medusa hissed.  
“You know the rumors!” Crystal said. “Weren't you at least expecting it?”  
“I had hoped I would be betrothed to…the other one.” She sent a swift glance towards Maximus between a small gap in the strands of her hair. “Besides, even if I wasn't, I expected I would meet him today. I'll be stuck here without even knowing the man I came here for!”  
“I can fix that!” Crystal said, a gleam entering her eye.  
Medusa frowned. “What?”  
“Oh, Prince Maximus!” Crystal cooed in her best innocent-little-girl voice.  
“Crystal!” Medusa hissed, slapping her sister on the shoulder, but it was too late. Maximus’ steely blue eyes fixed upon them both.  
“Yes, Lady Crystal?”  
She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “What is your brother like?”  
Something of a sneer worked its way onto the prince’s face. “He cannot speak, so it is almost impossible to know.”  
That took Medusa by surprise, her embarrassment fading away as curiosity took its place. “He cannot? Why?”  
“Surely you must have heard of his deadly powers,” Maximus said, sounding unenthused.  
Both girls nodded.  
“The deadly power lies in his voice. One whisper could decimate the Royal Palace entirely.”  
Medusa did not answer. So she was to be married to a man who could never speak lest he destroy everything around him. The day kept getting better and better.  
Crystal, sensing her sister’s mood, spoke up again cheerfully. “So what are your powers, Prince Maximus?”  
He eyed her. “I don't have any.”  
“You don't? Haven't you been exposed to the Terrigen Mists?”  
“Yes, but,” he shrugged, “they didn't work on me.”  
Medusa felt sympathetic towards him. Having a brother with incredible power would be hard enough, but having no powers of your own was on a whole other level.  
“I'm sorry,” she said quietly.  
“Don't be, my lady,” he said. “You cannot miss something you never had.”  
/  
When dinner was finally, mercifully over, everyone retreated to their respective rooms. Medusa’s family would stay overnight before returning home in the morning.  
Medusa and Crystal entered their room. It was large and ornate, with two oversized beds piled high with fluffy pillows and dressed with velvety sheets. Even Lockjaw had been considered; a huge cushion was laid out at the footboard of one of the beds. Someone had brought up their bags; they were all stacked neatly in one corner of the room.  
Medusa plopped down on the bed without the cushion with a gusty sigh, relieved at finally being able to let her hair relax. It spread out across the bedspread in red rivulets.  
“Would you like me to comb your hair?” Crystal asked.  
“Yes, please.” It was a tradition for them; every night Crystal would comb through her sister’s hair, relieving the tension and freeing up any tangles that were procured during the day.  
Crystal went over to the bags and dug through them until she found the brush, then clambered up onto the bed. Medusa allowed her hair to spread further, separating it into strands for easier combing, and Crystal began to brush gently.  
They sat in silence for a little bit, the only noises being the sound of the brush going through hair and the evenness of Lockjaw’s breathing, until Medusa spoke up.  
“This will be the last time we do this for a while,” she murmured, staring straight ahead at the darkened window.  
“Maybe not,” Crystal said. “I could get Lockjaw to bring me here.”  
Medusa smiled at the wild notion. “Mother and Father would kill you if you did that.”  
“They don't have to know.”  
“Stay home,” Medusa said. “Be happy. Soon enough you'll go through the Mists and have powers like me.”  
The brush faltered. “I don't know if I could be happy without you there.”  
The pure sadness in her little sister's voice had Medusa swallowing hard. “It's not like I'll never see you. Once I meet my betrothed…maybe we will visit.”  
Crystal's tone changed from sadness to one of mild annoyance. “I wish you were betrothed to Maximus. He seems nice.”  
Medusa bit back a groan, having forgotten about the situation until she mentioned it. “Me too.”  
“I wish I could be betrothed to him…”  
Medusa jerked at the muttered comment, her hair shifting. “Crystal!”  
Her sister snickered. “What? He is handsome.”  
“I suppose he is.”  
“Besides, he can talk.”  
“Yes,” Medusa agreed, “he can talk.”  
Crystal focused on ridding her hair of a particularly stubborn tangle. “How will you get to know someone who can't talk to you?”  
“I have no idea,” she said dejectedly.  
“Well, you never know,” Crystal said, attempting to lighten her sister’s mood. “He might be able to communicate with you anyway, and maybe he’ll end up being the kindest, most handsome man you’ve ever seen!”  
“But how can he be kind if he can’t speak?”  
“Kindness is more than words.”  
Medusa fell silent and remained that way until Crystal finished her brushing.  
“Done,” she said, letting a smooth lock flow across her palm. “I’m going to miss this.” She was hardly surprised when Medusa turned around and her hair enveloped her, pulling her close in a hug.  
“I’m going to miss you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.  
Crystal put her arms around her sister’s shoulders and squeezed, willing the lump in her throat to stay away. “I’ll miss you too.”  
They embraced a moment longer before Medusa pulled away, wiping away a tear with her hair. “It’s late. We should get to bed.”  
Crystal nodded and pushed herself off, retreating to the other bed. When she was situated under the covers, Medusa clapped her hands and the lights shut off, plunging the room into darkness save for the mild glow of the palace lights coming through the window.   
“Medusa?” Crystal’s voice sounded small in the dark.  
“Hm?”  
“If Prince Maximus is handsome, his brother is probably really handsome.”  
Medusa laughed and rolled over. “Good night, Crystal.”  
“Good night.”  
And Medusa was asleep before she knew it.


	2. Chapter 2

Morning came far too quickly for Medusa’s liking. Breakfast was a quiet and subdued affair, and all too soon they were standing out on the palace grounds, saying their goodbyes.  
“Be good,” Ambur said, looking rather emotional herself. “We’ll visit you when we can, I promise.”  
Quelin had little to say. He merely enveloped his daughter in a tight hug.  
“You’re lucky,” Crystal told her. “You get to marry a prince and become queen.”  
Medusa smiled ruefully and said, “If you have a chance, marry for love.”  
“Take this.” Crystal slipped a small item into her hand. “If you ever need Lockjaw, or me, just blow.”  
Medusa inspected the item. It was the whistle used to summon Lockjaw. Connected to his antenna, it could summon him from anywhere.  
“Thank you,” she murmured.  
Lockjaw whined and licked her, and Medusa scratched his cheek as the rest of her family laid their hands on them. Then she had to step away, and with a final goodbye her family disappeared with a flash, teleported back home by Lockjaw.  
Medusa swallowed hard, blinking back her tears. Now she was truly alone in an unfamiliar place full of unfamiliar people, and she was betrothed to a man she had never met who couldn't even speak.  
“I know it will be hard,” King Agon said kindly, coming up beside her. He had witnessed their goodbyes. “However, I think you’ll grow to like it here, especially considering your cousins are here.”  
Startled, Medusa turned to him. “My cousins, Your Majesty? Surely you can’t mean…”  
Agon smiled. “The very same.”  
“Oh,” Medusa breathed, her hair writhing with excitement. “Where are they?”  
The king gestured vaguely. “Somewhere around the palace grounds.”  
“May I go and look for them?”  
“Of course.”  
Medusa curtsied hastily. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” She hurried away in search of her cousins. The thought of them being with her eased the ache in her heart somewhat. Not everyone would be a complete stranger, and she was thankful for that.  
She wandered through the halls of the Royal Palace, taking the time to admire the architecture. High vaulted ceilings arched overhead, supported by white, curving columns. Everything was bright and pristine; there was not a blemish or spot anywhere, and it reminded her of what everyone expected her to be. She was supposed to be the perfect princess, not arguing with the path determined for her by her parents and the Royal Family.   
Her thoughts went back to Blackagar; she had only heard his name mentioned once or twice among tittering circles of gossipers. She knew absolutely nothing about him beyond his destructive capabilities and the fact that he was related to Agon, Rynda, and Maximus. But Crystal had been right: if he looked anything like Maximus, she would be fortunate. Yet there was still the issue of personality. Would she ever come to love a man she was marrying for lineage rather than want?  
A heavy sigh escaped her lips. As she pushed her thoughts away, she noticed she had wandered into a new section of the palace. The halls were much smaller and less ornate. Everything looked less decorative and more industrial. Her shoes clanked on metal as she walked.  
Am I supposed to be here? she wondered as she looked about. Hallways branched out to the left and right of the corridor, and ahead there was a staircase heading downwards. Curious, Medusa went to the top of the stairs. At the bottom, a set of thick-looking metal doors were sealed shut, strangely out of place even amidst the industrial design of the quarter she had entered.  
She was jolted from her observations when her feet left the ground suddenly, two arms wrapping around her middle and hefting her into the air.  
“Oh, little Medusa! I’m so glad to see you! Still favoring purple I see.”  
“Gorgon, is that you?” Medusa squawked, flapping her arms wildly in the air to no avail. “Put me down! It is unseemly for a lady to be—“  
“Oh, you’re a lady now? That’s hard to believe.” The arms released her, gently depositing her to the floor. Huffily, Medusa smoothed down the wrinkles in her dress and turned on her three cousins, who were grinning like idiots.  
“In case you haven’t heard, I am going to be the next Queen of the Inhumans!” she fumed. “You cannot just lift me off the floor!”  
Triton scratched his scaly head, eyeing her with his luminescent yellow orbs. “It seemed pretty easy to me.”  
Medusa fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him like she would when they were younger. Instead, she stuck her nose in the air and said, “A queen keeps her feet on the floor at all times.”  
Gorgon tried to nod seriously, but Karnak started snickering and his expression broke into a smile. Triton started laughing outright, and Medusa could only hold her steely expression for a few seconds long before she started giggling.  
“It is good to see you, Medusa,” Karnak offered.  
“And I've never been happier to see you,” she returned.  
Gorgon offered his arm to her. “Let us take you through the palace grounds. There is much to see.”  
They went away, talking and laughing, and Medusa forgot all about the door.  
/  
“So you are to be married to Blackagar?” Triton asked Medusa over lunch.  
Medusa nodded, ensuring the breeze did not catch her napkin with a strand of hair.  
“It makes sense,” he continued. “You are the only girl in the Royal Family of proper age.”  
“Truthfully I wish I wasn't,” she sighed. “I wish there was somebody else to take my place so I could be at home with my family and not betrothed to a man I don't know.”  
“Blackagar is a good man,” Triton said.  
Medusa looked up at him. “You've met him?”  
“Oh, of course,” he said. “We—” Gorgon kicked him in the leg under the table none too gently and he winced. “Er, we've met him a few times over the years,”  
Medusa did not notice. “Don't you worry about his powers?”  
“He has excellent control,” Karnak said. “Right now the king and queen want to make sure of this before they let him out amongst others.”  
“Let him out?” she echoed.  
“He is kept in isolation to ensure his powers do not get unleashed by accident.”  
A picture of a skinny prisoner wasting away in a cell popped into her mind, and she shuddered. The rumors she had heard were true. “What is he like?”  
“He doesn't say much,” Gorgon joked.  
“Gorgon!”  
He held up his hands in surrender. “I'm sorry, the opportunity was there. In truth, he loves his people and Attilan very much. He wants to protect the Inhumans and our country, and I could think of no other man fit to rule the Inhumans.”  
“How will he rule if he cannot speak?” Medusa wondered.  
“The idea is that duty will fall to his wife.”  
“Me?” she exclaimed. “What am I supposed to do?”  
Gorgon shrugged. “It is only an idea, Medusa. When you meet him you can see for yourself.”  
“But when will I meet him?”  
“When the testing of his control is finished,” said Triton. “Two or three weeks.”  
Medusa sighed wearily, picking at her garden salad.  
“Don't worry, dear cousin,” Gorgon said, “we can keep you sane until then.”  
Medusa smiled. She had no doubt about that.  
/  
Maximus drummed his fingers on the windowsill, watching Medusa and her cousins strolling through the palace gardens. Triton said something, and Medusa clapped her hand to her mouth in a poor attempt to cover a laugh in a ladylike fashion. A long strand of red hair reached out and cuffed Triton over the head, and the fishlike Inhuman batted it away good-naturedly.  
The group then left Maximus’ field of view, becoming obscured by a tree, and the prince scowled. Blackagar was to marry Medusa, and once that transpired, he would have no argument for the throne of Attilan. It was unseemly for a king to not have a queen, and should a sibling of the king make a claim for the throne, it could be argued in his favor. However, once Blackagar was married…  
There must be something he could do, something that would make the people of Attilan despise Blackagar so he would have no choice but to be king, but what? What would the people fear?  
His fingers stopped mid-drum, a slow grin taking over his features as the idea came into his mind.  
“Halis!” he called, turning away from the window.  
The hapless servant came quickly, entering the room bowing and scraping. “Yes, my lord Maximus?”  
He paused for a moment. “Bring me that painting.” He pointed to a particularly large portrait of some bygone king hanging on the adjacent wall.  
Normally such a strange request would not have gone unquestioned, but much to Maximus’ delight Halis scrambled to obey without another word. He watched as the servant struggled to remove the painting before saying, “Stop, that’s enough.”  
Immediately Halis ceased trying to remove the painting and walked back over to the middle of the room, standing to attention much like a soldier, his eyes strangely glassy.  
“Thank you, Halis, you may go.”  
The servant bowed and turned on his heel, leaving the room quietly. As he shut the door, he blinked and shook his head. He couldn’t remember what he had been doing, but he shrugged it off as a lapse in memory and continued on his way.  
/  
Dinner was much more jovial affair than breakfast had been that morning. Medusa’s cousins had her talking and laughing so hard she could barely manage a mouthful of food, until Queen Rynda snapped something about manners and they quieted down a bit, though they didn’t stop talking.  
Karnak was the first to finish his meal. He pushed his plate and stood, bowing to the king and queen. “If I may, I wish to be excused to my studies.”  
“Certainly,” said Agon.  
Medusa tilted her head. “Studies?”  
“Philosophy and the like,” Karnak said.  
“You know, the boring things,” Gorgon interjected.  
Karnak shot a glare at his cousin. “I will see you all later.”  
As he left the dining hall, Medusa said, “Philosophy isn’t so bad.”  
“But you haven’t had to live with him,” Triton muttered.  
“Hush.”  
/  
Karnak did not, in fact, go to study his philosophy, at least not right away. He had a more important matter to attend to before he did.  
Servants bowed and curtsied as he walked through the hallways, that is until he reached the more deserted wing of the palace. Few had any reason to walk those metal halls, and those that did usually tried to get their business done quickly and get out, for they feared the great power that lay below the thick metal plating.  
But Karnak walked unafraid, for he knew more than they. He reached the stairs Medusa had stood at the top of earlier that day and descended to the steel doors without hesitation. He punched in the code on the small keypad next to the door. There was a small beep as the code was accepted and the doors opened with a low mechanical rumble. He stepped inside, and they shut tight behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Medusa exited the steamy washroom, wrapped in her fluffy bathrobe (which was a lovely shade of dusky purple, of course). She let her hair twist tightly together, wringing out the last droplets of water. She could not help a sigh as she sat down on the bed and took up the hairbrush. She was thankful for her cousins’ presence; during the day they could keep away the homesickness, for though they were not even related by blood, they were family, but now at night when they were not around, the ache returned to her heart tenfold. She wished Crystal was there to comb her hair for her, that her mother was there to speak with, that her father was there to laugh with, that Lockjaw was there to be a calming presence.  
Trying not to dwell on her family—for her life was now one of royalty and rigid rules—she took up the brush and willed a damp clump of hair to settle in her lap. As she began to brush through the coppery tangle, her thoughts wandered to the Royal Family. King Agon was kind; it came as no surprise to her that he was such a beloved ruler. However, she had no idea what to make of Queen Rynda. She seemed rather cold and detached, and Medusa dared to think she may have been unhappy with her presence. Then there was Prince Maximus; he was chivalrous and polite, if a little moody.  
But yet there was the unknown variable: Crown Prince Blackagar. She was to spend the rest of her life with him, bear his children, be his queen, be his voice, yet she knew nothing beyond what her cousins had told her. It scared her beyond belief; for all she knew she could be stuck with a terrible, abusive person for the rest of her life. It made her feel like panicking.  
She swallowed, attempting to banish the sick feeling in her stomach as she moved on to the next section of hair. A queen does not make assumptions about people, she told herself.  
Yet she couldn’t help but worry.  
/  
Gorgon and Triton looked up expectantly as Karnak entered Gorgon’s room.  
“What did the prince have to say today?” Triton asked.  
Karnak seated himself in one of the chairs in the room, ignoring his brother’s poor choice of words. “He wishes to meet her all the more.”  
“I thought as much,” Gorgon said.  
“It is a shame she is not authorized to visit him,” Triton said. “I can see she is anxious about the whole arrangement, and perhaps meeting him would make her feel more at ease.”  
“We should at least tell her we are meeting with him,” Gorgon said.  
“No,” said Karnak.  
“Why not?”  
“You know how strong-willed and persistent Medusa can be. If we tell her she would most likely wish to visit him, and I fear we might cave. If Rynda found out, she'd have our heads.”  
Gorgon frowned. “I suppose you have a point.”  
“We should keep our visits between us,” Triton said. “She will meet Blackagar when it is time.”  
/  
Medusa watched with interest as Gorgon sparred with a soldier. Years of training to become a high-ranking official in Attilan’s army had turned him into quite the formidable fighter. The hooves of his bull’s legs dug deep into the earth, sending up a spray of dirt as he launched himself at the soldier and tackled him to the ground.  
“Do you ever lose?” Medusa called.  
“Rarely,” Gorgon said, helping the soldier to his feet. “Only when they're bigger than me.”  
Medusa huffed. “That must be rare.”  
Gorgon chuckled and retrieved a cloth, wiping away the sweat achieved by hard work in the midday sun. When he was sufficiently dry, he came and plopped himself down on the bench next to Medusa, but kept a suitable distance from her in order to keep the stench of sweat off of her clothes.  
“So, how do you feel about the whole marriage?” he asked.  
Medusa knew such a question had been coming. Her hair twitched in response to her agitation. “You mustn’t tell anyone save Karnak and Triton. I don’t want the king and queen to know.”  
“My lips are sealed, dear cousin.”  
Medusa sighed heavily. “Truthfully, I am scared out of my wits.”  
“What of? Prince Blackagar’s powers?”  
“No. I believe you when you say he has great control. Obviously he would, because Attilan still exists right now.” A humorless smile played at her lips.  
“Then what is it?”  
“I am scared of him, as a person. I know you said he is a good person, but you haven’t seen him in years. What if he turns out to be a horrible person? What if I never learn to love him? I’ll be miserable for the rest of my life.”  
At that moment, the urge to tell her about their meetings with the prince had never been greater, but Gorgon restrained himself. “Medusa, trust me when I say that one of the first things a prince learns is how to treat a lady properly, especially one who is to be his wife.”  
She looked up at him. “I suppose that does make sense.”  
“As for love, well…” He shrugged. “I don't have much experience on the subject as you know. All I can tell you is that it feels like everything will turn out well.”  
“Thank you,” Medusa murmured, a lock of hair twirling around her hand. A moment of silence passed before she spoke again. “Where are Karnak and Triton? I haven't seen them since this morning.”  
“Busy,” Gorgon said. It wasn't a lie, just not the entire truth.  
She squinted. “What with?”  
“You know Triton likes to be in the water, and Karnak, well…” He waved his hand dismissively. “I'm sure I would go mad if I sat still for the amount of time he does.”  
“He always was quiet, even when we were children,” Medusa laughed. “Maybe we should go and find them?”  
“No,” Gorgon said. “They'll show themselves when they're ready.”  
“Alright,” Medusa said.  
/  
“Tutoring?” Medusa repeated.  
“Yes,” said Rynda, cold and composed as always. “A future queen of Attilan must be properly educated.”  
“But Your Majesty, I am educated,” said Medusa, feeling scandalized.  
“Properly educated,” Rynda hissed, and promptly shoved a heavy book into Medusa’s hands. “You are expected to read chapters one and two by tomorrow.”  
She peered at the book. It read, Genetics of Attilan: A History. No one had ever openly discussed it with her, but the implication was right out in the open: she was to bring forth a new generation of royal blood when she was married.  
She left the room feeling heavy of heart and soul. Eager to be rid of the book, she left it in her room and went on her way in search of her cousins.  
Oddly enough, they were nowhere to be found. Usually it did not take her long to come across them; Gorgon’s raucous laughter, the slap of Triton’s wet feet on the marble, or the sound of Karnak splitting a board perfectly in half would lead her to them fairly quickly. However, the hallways were eerily quiet as she walked through them. She checked the library, the water, the training grounds; everywhere she could think of to look for them, but they were nowhere to be seen. Finally getting fed up, she went to the garden and settled down under a spreading tree, attempting to enjoy the warmth of the afternoon, and before she knew it, her eyelids had fallen shut and she drifted into a doze.

Maximus watched her sleep. Her red tresses were gathered around her, some as a soft cushion and some wrapped around her in a soft, comforting embrace. He had no reservations in admitting that she was beautiful, and it was a shame she was to be wed to Blackagar so he could not have her without a fight, but he would have her, one way or another…  
/  
“Medusa!”  
She came out of her doze with quite the unladylike snort, her hair shifting around her wildly in her surprise. As she came to her senses, she realized her three cousins were standing over her, looking down at her with curious expressions.  
“I didn't know you were one for napping,” Triton said.  
Medusa stood, brushing herself off and fixing them with a glare. “I looked all over for you three after my meeting with the Queen! Where were you?”  
“Er, we were just busy,” Gorgon mumbled.  
She straightened her skirt. “Well you could have at least told me so I wouldn't waste time running around the palace."  
Karnak at least had the grace to look apologetic. “We're sorry Medusa. What did the queen want to see you about?”  
Her annoyance at them switched to annoyance at Rynda. “She wants me to be tutored and having a ‘proper’ education.”  
Gorgon winced in sympathy. “Ah. All kings and queens go through that, I'm afraid.”  
“Is it boring?”  
“Unbearably so.”  
Medusa heaved a heavy sigh. Her unhappiness must have been evident, for Triton suggested, “Why don't we go to the water? It's always nice there.”  
Her countenance brightened, and they took off for the water, eager to be far away from a life of duty.


	4. Chapter 4

By the sixth day of her stay at the Royal Palace, Medusa had a sneaking suspicion her cousins were not telling her everything. Twice a day at least one of them would vanish for around half an hour. At one point she couldn't find a single one of them after finishing up some extraordinarily boring studying session, and she looked everywhere she could think of, running into Prince Maximus in the process.

“Have you seen any of my cousins?”

“How would I know where they are?” Maximus said with a shrug.

Medusa frowned at his mildly caustic response, but she noticed he looked disheveled and tired, so she likened it to a bad night's sleep. “Well, thank you anyway.”

She finally found them when she rounded a corner and ran straight into Gorgon, with Karnak and Triton right behind him.

“Where have you three been?” she exclaimed.

They all mumbled inconsistent excuses, and Medusa had a feeling that there was more going on than met the eye.

 

“May I ask you all a question?” she inquired casually one day at lunch.

Karnak paused with a fork full of potatoes halfway to his mouth. “Of course.”

“What are you hiding from me?”

She watched with satisfaction as Triton choked on his water mid-drink. Gorgon pounded his back heartily in an attempt to end his choking.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Medusa,” Karnak said calmly.

“Then why is Triton about ready to choke and die?” She shot an accusing look at her scaly cousin.

“Merely coincidence,” Triton rasped hoarsely, though he did not meet her gaze.

She let the subject drop, but now her feeling was cemented in truth. They were hiding something.

 

So, the next time Triton excused himself from some silly card game they were playing (“diving practice”, he said), Medusa excused herself not long after, claiming she needed to begin reading the next chapter of Genetics of Attilan: A History. Truthfully, reading the incredibly confusing and boring textbook was the furthest thing from her mind; she intended to follow Triton to wherever he, Karnak and Gorgon routinely disappeared to, for no amount of prying and accusations seemed to garner an answer out of the three.

The fishlike Inhuman was not hard to follow. His scaly feet slapped on the marble oddly, leaving a loud echo wherever he went. Medusa would wait until he turned the corner to the next hallway to steal down the corridor. Every Inhuman had a basic training in stealth and fighting; she was no exception, so she kept her footsteps as light and as quiet as she dared in order to keep hers from echoing in the spacious arched halls.

She did not have to follow him long until she found herself in the industrial section of the palace. Here, she did not have to worry about an echo, and the low mechanical hum beneath the metalwork masked her footsteps, making it easier to follow Triton at a closer range.

After several turned corners, Medusa found Triton nearing the strange staircase she had stood at on her first day at the Royal Palace. Without pause, he marched down the stairs, and she crept to the top of the staircase, watching carefully. He entered a set of numbers in a small keypad by the door; Medusa took note of the numbers— _0616_ —and looked on as the doors rumbled open, allowing Triton entrance. From her vantage point she could not see what was beyond the doors, and even if she could see, the doors shut immediately after her cousin stepped in.

She sprinted away, repeating _0616, 0616, 0616_ , to herself as she did. She had no idea what on earth Triton had just walked into, and she was definitely going back there later.

 

The pen’s texture was smooth and metallic, allowing it to roll easily across the table.

“Lady Medusalith?”

It was almost to the edge of the table, rolling, rolling, rolling…

“Lady Medusalith!”

“Hm?” Medusa was jerked back to reality abruptly, her hand clapping down on the pen to stop it from rolling off the table altogether.

Her tutor, an older male Inhuman that was slightly furry and had goat’s ears in place of regular ones, glared at her with gleaming yellow eyes. “Are you paying attention?”

“Er, yes. I am sorry, Mister…” His name was a complicated string of syllables she could never remember, so she cleared her throat and moved on. “What was the question?”

The tutor raised his chin in indignation. “What is the significance of gene INH2q5763n9?”

“Er…” Medusa drummed her fingers on the table. “The gene for a tail?”

He harrumphed. “Yes, that is surprisingly correct, considering you weren't paying attention.

Medusa knew he was right. Her thought were completely deviated to the strange door in the industrial area of the palace. It had been three days, and still her cousins kept up their odd disappearances, clearly not having known she followed Triton. She had been calculating the timing, and when she got out of her tutoring class there should be enough time—

A book snapping shut made her jump. She looked back at the tutor, who was still glaring.

“Seeing as your head is still clearly in the clouds, we will end for today.”

Medusa almost smiled, but managed to keep a serious face. Getting out early would be even better.

“But I expect you to be punctual and on your toes tomorrow,” the tutor sniffed.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” She rose hastily and curtsied before fleeing the room, ready to go about her mission.

Briefly, she returned to her room and grabbed up the piece of paper with the code to the door written on it before setting off in the direction of the industrial area. Some servants bowed or curtsied as she walked towards the wing, but nobody made to stop her. Somewhere in the distance, Gorgon laughed and the sound intermingled with the laughter of Karnak and Triton, echoing through the hallways. Thee sound sent a surge of relief through Medusa; she had confirmation they were not anywhere near the staircase and the door.

Still with an air of caution, she came to the industrial area, and as it had been previously, not a soul was to be found. Focusing on finding the way, she recalled the route she had taken when following Triton and retraced her steps. Sure enough, she came to the staircase.

The paper felt sweaty in her hands as she stared down at the doors. If found, she could get in major trouble. Obviously only a sacred few were allowed past those doors, otherwise there would certainly be more people around. She could be ending her career as Queen of Attilan before it even began, but her cousins had never lied to her in the past, and she had to find out why they started now.

So she went down the stairs. Every step of her shoes on the metal sounded loud, and with every step her heart beat faster. Then she was at the bottom, staring at the doors. Her hand trembled slightly as she held up the paper.

_0616._

Slowly, carefully, she punched the numbers into the keypad. With a final, fortifying breath, she hit the enter key.

A small beep, and the doors rumbled open. Startled, Medusa darted in, and they shut behind her almost instantly with a clang of finality.

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't a person.

The room she was standing in was somewhat large, completely metal without any change save for the wall opposite her. It too was mostly metal, but right opposite the doors was a window, floor to ceiling of thick glass, and behind it he stood.

He was tall, probably a good half a foot taller than she. A black bodysuit encased his form up to his neck, showing off a well-toned and muscular body. White jagged stripes ran down opposite sides of his chest, coming to stop at white rings around his legs. Above his neck, a muzzle of some sort encased his chin up to his nose, and above that were the brightest blue eyes Medusa had ever seen. His hair was dark brown, almost black, and well-cut.

He looked almost as startled as she felt, his eyes widening fractionally.

“Oh, er, um…” Medusa nearly stumbled, but managed to keep herself upright. “I'm sorry, I didn't expect anyone to be down here. I was looking for my cousins.”

He tilted his head to one side slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he were wary of her.

“Who might you be?” she asked, remembering her manners just in time.

He did not move for a long moment, merely continuing to study her. Then, he slowly made a circle out his index fingers and thumbs on both hands and brought it up to his head. It took a moment for the action to register in Medusa’s mind.

_Crown Prince._

She swore her face turned as red as her hair. “P-Prince Blackagar?”

A single nod.

Beyond mortified, she curtsied deeply, nearly unbalancing herself in the process. “Er, allow me to introduce myself. I am your betrothed, Medusalith Amaquelin.”

When she spoke her name, Blackagar’s eyes widened again, though whether with surprise or fear she could not tell. Then he bowed courteously to her. After a long pause, she remembered he could not speak, and she felt like sinking into the floor completely.

“You…you're probably wondering what I'm doing here,” she said.

A nod.

She swallowed. “Well…” Before she could get any farther, he held up a single finger, and the message was clear this time.

_One moment._

He darted out of her view, and she took the opportunity to jointly fan herself wildly and also scold herself in the process.

“Of course he can't talk, you stupid girl!” she hissed. “What were you expecting him to do? Offer pleasantries?”

Blackagar returned sooner than she expected, and she spun around rapidly, hoping her hair wasn’t moving too much. The only change about him was his hair; it had been a little spiky, but now it was smoothed down perfectly.

When the implication hit Medusa, she couldn’t help a smile. “You were expecting Gorgon, Karnak, and Triton instead of me, weren’t you?”

He nodded, still studying her with that scrutinizing look. She shifted, hoping her face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Um, so you want to know why I’m here?”

Nod.

“Well, I’ve been here for almost a week and my distant cousins—Karnak, Triton, and Gorgon—have been disappearing throughout the day every day, and when I’d ask them they would lie, so I decided to find out what it was they were doing.” She blinked. “Which apparently is visiting you.”

Blackagar nodded again, the skin around the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as if he were smiling behind the muzzle.

“I’m sorry if I intruded,” she continued. “I know I’m not supposed to be here, but…” She trailed off as he shook his head. “I didn’t intrude?”

He shook his head again. No.

She sighed, a tendril of hair wrapping around her hand. “Well, I’m glad.”

He noticed the movement of her hair and tilted his head towards her questioningly.

“What, my hair?” Medusa held up the hand wrapped in red, and he nodded. “It’s the power given to me by the Terrigen Mists. It’s not that impressive.”

Blackagar gave her a look.

“You like it?”

Nod.

Once again she felt heat creeping into her cheeks. “Well, thank you, though it’s not nearly as impressive as your powers.”

At that, Blackagar’s expression darkened, his brow furrowing and his shoulders tensing visibly.

“I'm sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn't have said that. I know it must be hard for you. I can't even imagine what it must be like to have to stay in there all the time.” _You're rambling!_ she thought to herself. _Shut up before you make an even bigger fool of yourself!_

Blackagar merely blinked slowly in acknowledgment, his brow returning to a neutral state.

Before she could stop herself, the next inquiry came tumbling from her lips. “Does it hurt? That muzzle, I mean? It doesn't look very comfortable.”

He tilted his head curiously and nodded.

“Gorgon told me you have good control,” she said. “Is it because of that?”

He shook his head.

“Then why do you wear it?”

He brought his hands up to his face, palms open as if shielding himself from something.

“Protection?” Medusa interpreted.

He dropped his hands. Nod.

“For who?”

He pointed straight at her.

“Me?”

He made a wide gesture with his arms.

“Everyone,” she murmured. “So you don't necessarily have to wear it?”

He shook his head.

“But you choose to? Why?”

The looked he gave her next did not need a gesture to accompany it. _I am afraid._

“It's alright to be afraid,” she said, and laughed drily. “I was scared out of my mind when I first came here. I still am, actually.”

Blackagar tilted his head in a silent question, but before Medusa could elaborate further, they were interrupted by a far off sound.

“Meduuuusaaaa!” Gorgon’s throaty bellow echoed faintly through the thick metal of the cell.

“Oh right,” she muttered, the reminder that her cousins still existed giving rise to her ire. “They'll probably be looking for me, and I have bone to pick with them I…I should probably go.”

Blackagar gestured to the door. _Go, then._

Medusa hesitated. “I…do you want me to come back?”

He nodded vigorously, more action than any response she had received in the past. _Yes_.

She smiled, barely remembering to curtsy. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Prince Blackagar.”

He bowed in return.

She turned to go, but a tap on the glass stopped her. She looked back and saw him gazing at her with a hopeful expression, a hand pressed to the window.

_Please._

“I'll be back, I promise,” she said, and she meant it.

He nodded one final time and stepped back from the glass. She reentered the code to the door and stepped through them, and they shut behind her with a hiss.


	5. Chapter 5

The trio of cousins were all startled when Medusa rounded the corner. As soon as she spied them, she stalked towards them with a baleful glint in her eyes.

“Medusa, where—ow!” Karnak’s inquiry was cut off with a yelp of pain as three long strands of hair shot out and seized them by the ears (or the equivalent thereof) and tugged mercilessly.

“Why didn't you buffoons tell me you've been visiting Prince Blackagar?” Medusa hissed, stopping just short of them.

Triton preformed a small dance, trying to extricate himself from the grasp of her hair to no avail. “We haven't been visiting him! What are you talking abou—yowch!” His attempt at playing innocent was rewarded by a cruel tug on his fin-like appendage.

“Don't lie to me!” she growled.

“Alright, alright!” Gorgon yelled. “We've been visiting him! Please let us go and we'll explain!”

Medusa considered it for a moment and finally relented, giving them all one final yank for good measure.

“Well?” she fumed, glaring at them as they all stood rubbing furiously at their abused ears.

“Not here,” Gorgon murmured. “Not out in the open where we can be heard.”

With a sigh of barely restrained annoyance, Medusa followed them away.

 

Gorgon shut the door to his room and locked it tight. Medusa took a seat on the edge of the bed and glared them all down, her arms crossed over his chest.

“Explain.”

“We-ell…” Gorgon rubbed at the back of his head. “You know that Prince Blackagar is kept in that cell for his own safety as well as others, but obviously he gets lonely being down there all by himself, so we being his family have authorized access to visit him.”

Medusa spread her hands. “And why not tell me that?”

“It was the orders of the king and queen that you not visit him until they were sure of his control,” said Karnak. “They didn't want to endanger you, because you didn't know him. We still wanted to visit him, but we didn't tell you because we know how persistent you can be. If we had told you we knew you would try to convince us into meeting him, and we didn't want to risk going against the orders of the king and queen.”

Medusa let her hands fall into her lap, her ire fading. “Oh.” Suddenly their deceit made a lot more sense.

“How did you get in there, Medusa?” Triton asked.

She smiled at him. “You, my dear cousin, are terrible at stealth. I'm afraid even a toad with half an ear could follow the sound of your fishy feet on the marble.” Then she outright laughed at the look of righteous indignation on his face. “I'm sorry, but it's true.”

“So did you talk to him?” Karnak interjected.

“Yes, I did,” she said, recalling the expressive blue eyes peering from above the muzzle. “It was very…interesting. He was very polite.”

“I told you he knew how to treat a lady,” Gorgon said.

Medusa huffed at him. “I barely know him Gorgon. We just talked for a little bit.”

“What about?”

“Well, I asked him about the muzzle he was wearing. I know you said he had excellent control and so I was wondering why he was wearing it. He said it was for everyone's protection, and…and he said he was afraid.”

“He wears it as a precaution,” Triton explained. “What we said about his control is true, but he worries that he still might make a sound, so he often wears it. Not always, but often.”

“Mm.” She was becoming vastly intrigued with him, still trying to process that he was the man she would be marrying. Now that she had actually met him, her perception was changed. He was a person, just like her, not some distant entity to be feared.

“He seemed to enjoy me being there, or at least as far as I could tell,” she said, more to herself than to her cousins.

Gorgon snorted. “I would hope he was.”

“Why’s that?”

“We told him all about you.”

Her head shot up. “You what?”

Triton shrugged. “He wanted to know about you, so we told him.”

Medusa felt her face heating up. “All good things, right?”

“Well, there was that one time when we were little, you were dancing around and fell right into the—”

Her hair spread out all around her like a red river. “You did not tell him that.”

Gorgon backed away to what he hoped was a safe distance from her hair, not wanting a repeat of the justice meted out upon his ear. “I was only joking, Medusa.”

After a moment’s hesitation, her hair relaxed, though she still looked extremely unamused. “Well what did you tell him?”

“He wanted to know what you looked like, where you came from, what you liked to do,” Karnak said. “Things like that.”

Medusa nodded. That she could understand.

“He wanted to see you really badly,” Triton said. “He thought you sounded…nice.”

She suppressed a smile. “Well, that's good for him, because I'm going to be visiting him again soon.”

“What?” Gorgon hissed. “You can't go back there!”

She frowned. “Why not?”

“The king and queen would have our heads if they caught you,” Karnak said.

“I promised him I'd come back!” Medusa rose from the bed, planting her feet and lifting her chin. “How would you feel if you were locked up in a cell like that and one of the few people you could interact with promised to come back but didn't?”

Karnak sighed. “We're not the only ones who visit him. King Agon also visits him frequently. You were lucky he didn't come while you were there.”

She paused. “What about his mother and brother?”

“Queen Rynda is…well…Queen Rynda, and Maximus has never particularly cared for his brother.” Karnak waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway, you can't risk going back there.”

She did not waver. “I will go back there. I promised.”

Karnak gave Gorgon and Triton a despairing look, which they returned. The sheer stubbornness had come into play. Finally, Gorgon let out a sigh of defeat.

“Maybe we could sneak you down with us tomorrow,” he said.

She grinned, her posture loosening. “That's exactly what I wanted to hear.”

 

That night as she prepared for bed, Medusa’s mind swarmed with thoughts about the events of the day. Prince Blackagar was a far cry from the sickly, emaciated prisoner she had so foolishly imagined, and of that she was glad. His kindness towards her eased her apprehension about marrying him ever so slightly, though it still gnawed at the edges of her mind. She still had yet to truly know him.

She clapped her hands, and the room went dark. Snuggling under the covers, she took a deep breath to help calm herself. As soon as her head hit the pillow, Crystal's words sprang into her mind.

_If Prince Maximus is handsome, his brother is probably_ really _handsome._

A loud giggle escaped Medusa’s mouth before she could stop it, and she slapped a section of hair over her mouth to prevent any more from coming forth. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, but Crystal had been hilariously correct. Prince Blackagar was more handsome than Prince Maximus. Where Maximus had a slight, skinnier figure, Blackagar was well muscled, likely from lack of anything else to do in his cell.

She went to sleep having laughed harder than she had in a long time.

 

Blackagar too went to bed that night with much to think about. After a long and thorough workout to tire himself out, he took up his meditation. It was a nightly ritual for him; it helped to clear his mind and ensure he did not make a single sound while he slept. Yet tonight, there were many things to think over.

He had finally met her: Medusalith Amaquelin, the girl he was to marry. Though he had grown up knowing he would, the thought of marriage frightened him. To be bound eternally to another person was no small responsibility, and that was only magnified by the fact that he was to be King of Attilan. On top of that, he would never be able to speak, and therefore a key aspect of any relationship would be irreparably vacant: communication.

He had voiced—or as best he could make known—his fears to his cousins, and they had been swift to reassure him in the weeks leading up to Medusa's arrival at the palace. They had endless descriptions and tales to tell of a redheaded girl who liked the color purple.

And yet, their descriptions had not done her justice, generous though they were.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't the Medusalith Amaquelin he had come in contact with earlier that day. She was beautiful, her red tresses swirling about her as if they were caught in a never ending wind and her face smooth and pale (except for the many times she blushed during their conversation). But what was below the surface caught his eye more. Pleasantly surprised was he to see she did not fear his power. Rare was it that he left the confines of his chambers, but he knew well that many kept a wide berth of even the section of the palace above him, much less his chambers. When he revealed his identity to her, he expected her to flee, but no, she had stayed, asking questions and talking to him without much hesitation.

It's alright to be afraid, she had said. No one had ever told him that before, not even his cousins. Though they were swift to assuage his fears, they never said anything like that, not that he could truly blame them. They tried their best. He had tried to make known his fears to his mother once, but she waved them away.

“I do not understand,” said she.

He couldn't remember the last time she visited.

The temptation had often gnawed at him to try and confide in his father; he visited far more frequently than his mother or Maximus, but after the words of his mother, he held himself back, limiting himself only to the words of his cousins, who often knew little more than he.

Yet Medusa had asked him a question about his muzzle—But you choose to? Why?—and he answered truthfully—I am afraid. A king did not lie, especially not to his queen.

Blackagar’s eyes popped open. That was more than enough meditation for the night, though it had done little to calm him this time. He rose from his position on the floor next to his bed and made his way into the washroom portion of his chambers. The only sounds were the scuff of his feet on the hard floor and the hum of the electricity in the walls. The washroom door hissed open and he stepped in, facing himself in the mirror above the sink. Blue eyes stared back at him from above the confines of the muzzle. He lifted up his hands and his fingers deftly undid the locking mechanism of it, having done the same thing over and over for years.

The muzzle came loose and he pulled it away from his face, leaving nothing between his voice and the chambers. It only served to remind him that in only a few weeks he would be exiting these chambers, perhaps forever, to face the real world. There would be no muzzle for the King of Attilan, which only served to heighten his anxiety about his voice. Could he trust himself not to make a sound, especially when the tests were so near at hand?

He worked his jaw muscles, savoring the feeling of relief that came with removing the muzzle. It was always painful, thanks to the powerful clamps placed around his mouth in order to ensure there would be no chance of movement.

He set the muzzle on the counter with a heavy clunk, right next to the comb he used to hurriedly fix his hair earlier. He winced and shook his head at the memory and dropped the comb into its rightful place.

Medusa would come back and see him, or at least he hoped she would. He wanted to know her better. With that in mind, he headed off to bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that after this chapter, updates will slow down. Up until this point I have merely been uploading what has already been uploaded to my FF.net account, but now I will be updating More Than Words in accordance with the updates on my FF.net account. Thank you for your understanding.

Medusa barely paid attention to her lessons the next day, much to her tutor’s annoyance. As soon as he gave up she was out the door, heading off to find her cousins.

“Shall we go?” she asked, breezing into Gorgon’s room in a swirl of red.

Gorgon looked up and sighed. He had been holding on to the faintest hope she would either forget or become too frightened, but of course he had no such luck.

“I suppose we shall,” he grumbled.

Medusa looked around. “Where are Karnak and Triton?”

“Busy.” When she gave him a skeptical look, he raised his hands in defense. “I mean it, Medusa. They really are busy. If they don't talk with Blackagar today they'll do it tomorrow.”

“Alright,” she said. “I believe you.”

“Be quiet while we go,” Gorgon instructed as they left his quarters. “We don't want to risk anyone seeing you entering the area.”

Medusa nodded, pressing her lips together tightly.

They traveled through the palace quickly and quietly, Medusa having to jog at a good pace to keep up with Gorgon’s long strides. When they neared the industrial area, he held out a hand, stopping her in her tracks. He took a swift look around to ensure there was no one nearby.

“Go, quick,” he hissed.

Medusa scurried into the industrial section and rounded the corner before stopping. After she had gone, Gorgon walked casually after her. Only when they had both surpassed the corner and began to walk towards the door did they relax.

“That was…exciting,” Medusa whispered squeakily. “I think I like sneaking around.”

“Don't make a habit of it,” Gorgon grumbled.

They reached the doors without incident. Gorgon punched in the code and the doors opened.

Blackagar heard the low rumble of the doors from inside his chambers. Dropping the book he was reading, he rushed to the window. Had his lips not been encased in metal, he wouldn't have been able to help a smile. She came back, and sooner than he expected.

Medusa felt her nerves take over as he looked at her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but she hoped he was glad to see her.

“Prince Blackagar,” she said with a curtsy, mentally praising herself for not stuttering.

He bowed in response.

“Medusa is very persuasive,” said Gorgon. “I have brought her here and resorted to espionage out of fear for my life.”

Blackagar tilted his head as if to say, _I can see it._

“How long until you undergo the tests?” Gorgon asked.

He held up both his hands, spacing them slightly apart.

Gorgon nodded knowingly. “Soon. I'm sure you will do well.”

Medusa frowned. “What sort of tests will they be?”

Blackagar looked at Gorgon expectantly, so he explained. “He will be subjected to great pain. If he does not cry out, he will have passed the test.”

Medusa's frown deepened. “I don't understand why they just can't take his word for it.” When both of them looked at her, she blushed, realizing her error. “Er, or lack of words.”

“That is what we wish as well,” said Gorgon. “It was Queen Rynda’s idea, and we cannot go against her word, not even the Crown Prince himself.”

“What if he doesn't pass?”

Gorgon shook his head. “We don't know. We can only hope he does.”

She looked over at Blackagar, who looked back with an unreadable expression. “I wish it didn't have to be that way.”

He blinked. _Me too._

“On the bright side, you are one day closer to being out of that cell,” Gorgon said. “The real world and all its glory awaits you, Blackagar.”

He nodded. He was more than ready to be out of his cell and experience the world beyond the metal walls, a world which he had only had a taste of a few times before. But with that desire came apprehension. In the real world there were people, enemies, foreign experiences he never had encountered in his sheltered life. There was the constant, nagging what if. What if he couldn't control himself? What if he made a mistake?

“Blackagar?”

He blinked, straightening and gesturing for Gorgon to repeat himself, not having heard whatever it was he had just said.

“I was saying we should probably leave before somebody comes along,” he repeated. “Just in case.”

The prince nodded in understanding, mildly disappointed that the visit had been so short.

Medusa gave him a small smile. “I'll come back when I can.”

Gorgon snorted. “You'll get us all in trouble.”

She elbowed him none too gently in the side. “Hush.”

Blackagar ignored his cousin’s comment and bowed to her. His message was clear: _Please do come back._

 

Maximus strolled through the gardens of the Royal Palace, Halis trailing in his wake. It was a lovely day. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the immaculately kept flora, causing a shifting sea of color. The sun’s bright eye looked down upon Attilan from a cloudless blue sky. The smell of the sea and the shore hung faintly in the air.

All this was lost upon the Prince of Attilan. Though he gazed upon the trees and the flowers, he did not truly see them, for his mind was set on something else.

Then he saw it. A gardeners cart had been left near the side of the path a good distance away from where he stood. The gardener himself was nowhere to be seen, most likely off in the large expanse of the garden.

“Halis!” Maximus barked.

The servant scurried up to his side. “Yes, my lord Maximus?”

The prince looked straight into his eyes and said, “Bring me the watering can off of that cart over there.”

Halis’ eyes became glassy, and without a word he obeyed, striding off down the path. The farther away he got, the more Maximus had to focus. At one point his influence wavered, but Halis managed to grab the watering can, and once he started back it grew progressively easier again.

“Thank you, Halis,” Maximus said, taking the watering can from his servant’s hands before promptly tossing it into the nearby bushes. He released his hold on him, and it took a moment for him to come back to his senses.

“Oh, er, I'm sorry my lord Maximus. I can't seem to remember what we were doing.”

Maximus smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Nothing at all, Halis.”

They continued on through the garden, leaving the poor gardener to wonder where on earth his watering can had disappeared to.


	7. Chapter 7

“I'm sorry, Medusa, but I can't take you to see Prince Blackagar today.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

Gorgon deftly brought his hand up, arranging himself into a fighting stance. “I'm training.”

“What about you, Karnak?” she asked, turning to her other cousin.

Karnak paused with his hand raised in the air. “Same as Gorgon.”

“Where's Triton?”

Karnak brought his hand down onto the unfortunate block of wood, splitting it perfectly through the middle. “Where do you think?”

Medusa sighed. “Well, I'll go by myself then.”

Gorgon’s stance faltered. “Medusa…”

“I know what you're going to say,” she interrupted. “I know it's dangerous and I could get caught. That's all I've heard from you these past few days.”

Gorgon sighed, dropping his arms and giving Karnak a despairing look. “I assume we can't stop you from going.”

“No.”

“Well be careful, if not for your sake then ours.”

Medusa smiled winningly and headed for the door.

“Tell Blackagar we say hello, at least!” Karnak called after her.

The door shut behind her.

 

Blackagar heard the rumble of the doors, and he quickly went to the window. He was surprised—but not disappointed—to see that Medusa had come alone.

“Good day, Prince Blackagar,” she said with a curtsy.

He shook his head at her. Making a circle out of his thumbs and index fingers, he placed them around his head before making as if he were tossing it away.

Medusa frowned. “You don't want me to call you prince?”

Another shake.

“Alright…Blackagar.” She said his name slowly, the concept of dropping formalities foreign to her. “I never really liked titles either. While we’re on the subject of names, I prefer to go by Medusa, as you may have noticed.”

He tilted his head, his eyes glittering.

“Er, I guess you wouldn't call me that,” she mumbled. “Anyway, I'm sorry I've come alone. The three of them are busy with other things, but I wanted to come see you regardless.”

His brow scrunched minutely. _Why?_

She took a deep breath. “Well, we are to be married at some point, so I want to get to know you as much as I can, I suppose. And, coming here is an escape from the pressures of being a princess.” She frowned. “You're supposed to be perfect, and it's hard sometimes.”

He nodded his understanding, then surprised her by sitting down on the floor. When she just stared at him, he gestured for her to do likewise.

“Oh, um, alright.” Medusa sat down as well, crossing her legs and letting her hair spread out behind her.

Blackagar looked at her expectantly. _What do you want to know about me?_ his face seemed to ask.

Medusa suddenly drew a blank. She had no idea what to ask him. “Um, what do you do in there all day?” she blurted, wanting nothing more than to break the awkward silence.

He held up an arm and flexed it. She could see the muscle of his bicep strain against the material of the black and white bodysuit.

“Training?” she asked.

Nod.

_That explains it_. “Anything else?”

He looked down at his lap and mimed opening a book.

Her face brightened. “You read?”

Nod.

“What do you like to read?” she asked. _We have something in common!_

He gestured vaguely.

“Anything you can get your hands on?” When he nodded, she continued. “I like reading fiction. I like escaping from the real world and all its duties.”

Her words resonated within Blackagar. She couldn't have been more right.

Medusa dared to touch the thick glass in between them experimentally. It was cold to the touch, and she drew her hand away. “How long have you been in here?”

He mimicked rocking a baby in his arms. _Since birth._

“How many times have you left?”

Blackagar paused for a moment to think before holding up four fingers.

Four times. The number staggered Medusa. Only four times in his life had he left the confines of thick glass and metal that surrounded him.

“I…I can't imagine what that must be like,” she stammered. “That's horrible.”

Blackagar shrugged. _It does not bother me so much_.

Medusa paused, attempting to gather her thoughts back into a coherent order. “You know, there are a lot of rumors about you outside of the Royal Palace.”

He leaned forward slightly, his interest evident.

“The people of Attilan don't know much about you, obviously, so there were a lot of stories. They were all ridiculous and I never paid attention, but one of them was that you spent your entire life in a cell.” She met his eyes. “Even back then, before I even knew who you were, I thought that sounded like a terrible existence. How do you put up with it, being alone?”

Blackagar touched his muzzle, then made a shielding motion.

“The thought you are protecting others from your powers,” she murmured. “Does your family ever visit you?”

Using his fingers, he made the letter A. _Agon._

“What about Queen Rynda and Prince Maximus?”

He shook his head. _They do not visit me often._

“Why don't they visit you?”

He shrugged.

“Do you wish that they visited you?”

He paused, then nodded.

Medusa frowned, perturbed that his family would exhibit such neglect. “Maybe it's because Maximus has no powers and you…well…I think you have almost too much.”

He pointed to her.

“What?”

He pointed to her again and did his best to make the letter F with his fingers.

“My family?”

Nod.

She swallowed. She hadn’t thought about them in a while, purposefully. Thinking of them made her heart ache. “Well, I have my father Quelin, my mother Ambur, who is a distant relative of King Agon, and my little sister Crystalia, or Crystal.” A smile crept across her face, her face taking on a distant expression. “And of course, Lockjaw.”

He gestured for her to continue. _Tell me about them._

“My mother and father are the best parents anyone could have, or at least I think so.” Her hair moved softly as if shifted by an invisible breeze. “My path as the Queen of Attilan has been set for me since I was born, but they always tried to encourage me, even if…even if I didn’t want to be queen.”

Blackagar listened intently. He understood not wanting to be queen. Oftentimes he found himself wondering if he wanted to be king.

“Lockjaw is my family’s dog, but he's the most attached to Crystal. He's big and can teleport wherever he wants to, and then there’s Crystal herself.” Her smile widened, and it was clear she was remembering something amusing. “She’s only nine years old, and she thought me being Queen of Attilan was the best thing in the world, and I think she was even envious of me marrying a prince.”

Blackagar’s eyes shone with amusement. He could see a picture of a young girl in his head, green with envy towards Medusa.

“We are close, and I miss her,” she continued, her tone taking on a sad note. “She used to brush my hair every night, but no more.”

His eyes softened. _I am sorry._

She sighed, her hair snaking across the floor involuntarily. “Have you ever stood on the beach and looked at the stars?”

Shake.

“When you get out of there, that's what you should do,” she said matter-of-factly. “In my opinion there had never been an experience more calm and peaceful. It's beautiful to see all those little lights in the sky, hear the ocean, and feel the sand running through your toes. I used to do it all the time with Crystal when I was at home.” Her tone turned wistful as her mind travelled back to simpler times when the duties of life did not weigh upon her so heavily.

Blackagar could see it in her face: the longing for the experience she described. He too longed for it, for the thought of experiencing the beauty of the outside world was enticing.

Medusa blinked, coming out of her thoughts. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that. It's just that I haven't done that in so long I…”

Blackagar shook his head, and gestured to her. It's alright. _Continue._

She exhaled. “I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but it reminds me of when things were simpler, less scary.”

He tilted his head. _Scary?_

Her hair twisted in nervous knots. “I've had to leave my home and come here to be amongst people I barely know save for Gorgon, Triton and Karnak for an arranged marriage. I was scared out of my mind, and to be honest, I still am. Being Queen of Attilan is a huge job, and I don't know if I'm ready for it.”

Blackagar placed a covered hand on the glass. _It's alright._

She looked at him questioningly. “Are…are you scared of being king…being married?”

Nod.

Her shoulders sagged in relief. “I'm glad I'm not the only one.” She bit her lip. “Can I ask why?”

He tapped his muzzle.

“I wouldn't worry too much about that. Your control is great, and I will be your voice.” She managed a weak smile. “I seem to be doing a pretty good job so far.”

The skin around his eyes crinkled. _I would say so._

Medusa suddenly became aware of time. How long had they sat together talking? Hurriedly she stood, straightening her dress.

“I should probably go. I've been down here for a long time…”

A tap on the glass made her look up. He had his hand to the glass again and was looking at her intently.

_It is alright to be afraid._

She smiled a true smile at him. “Thank you Prince…er, Blackagar.”

_Thank you, Medusa._


	8. Chapter 8

Several days passed. Blackagar continued to be visited by his cousins, and, despite numerous protests, Medusa as well. Sometimes she came with her cousins, and sometimes she came alone. He began to relax around her a little more as she sat and spoke to him, trusting himself not to make a sound. He did his best to answer her inquiries, and she did her best to interpret his signs. Sometimes it would take her a bit to realize the true implication of his motions, but in the end she would understand.

Medusa too began to relax. The more she spoke with him and got to know him, the more the fear of him subsided. He was kind, she saw, and she began to think that maybe being married to a silent king would not be the end of the world. He could say volumes without speaking a single word, and the more they talked, the easier it became to understand him. Sometimes she would talk about a book she had read, and he would listen patiently, just enjoying listening to someone else speak to him. Other times she would vent her frustration over her tutoring, and he could be nothing if not sympathetic.

“I found a watering can in a bush walking through the garden today,” she told him one day. “I took it to the gardener and he had been looking all over for it. I wonder how it got there?”

Without hesitation, Blackagar held up three fingers, pointing them downwards. Medusa stared at them for a moment before she finally realized.

“Maximus? He wouldn't do something like that, would he?”

He nodded. _He would._

She snorted. “I can't believe that. He's been nothing but polite to me. Your whole family has been, expect sometimes Queen Rynda can be a little…” She trailed off unsure of how to proceed for fear of offending him.

Blackagar imitated a shiver.

The implication caught Medusa off guard, causing her to laugh. She slapped a hand fed her mouth, but she was unable to keep the giggles from spilling forth. “Cold? I guess you could say that.”

He blinked, surprised by her laugh. In his many years of minimal interaction with others, rarely had he heard a laugh, but never had he heard one so…musical. He had made her laugh, and it made him feel warm inside.

 

“I found this book in the library today,” Medusa said, turning the book in her hands.

Blackagar studied the volume with interest. It was a somewhat thick volume, but not so huge as to be some boring encyclopedia.

“I thought it looked interesting,” she said, consciously aware of how awkward she felt. It had been Karnak’s idea for her to bring a book to talk about—you know he likes to read—but now that she stood before him she had no idea of what to say to him other than that.

Blackagar gestured to the book. _What is the name?_

“Oh.” Medusa felt like a fool for not telling him that right off. She turned the book over to get a better look at the cover. “Um…it’s called ‘ _The Man Out of Time’_. It’s about an enhanced human who was a war hero. He flew a plane into the northernmost part of the earth where he was lost. I don’t know if it’s a true story or not, but it seems like an interesting read.”

Blackagar then mimicked opening a book, then placed one hand on his muzzle before extending it outwards towards her.

Medusa blinked, unsure if she had misunderstood what he wanted. “You…do you want me to read this to you?”

Nod.

She flushed. “I don’t know…I’m not very good at that sort of thing…”

He shrugged. _I don’t care_. It was less about what she was reading and more about hearing her voice. Over the course of his life he had come to realize that a voice was a beautiful thing, often taken for granted by those who possessed one. He enjoyed hearing Medusa’s, and was not about to pass up the opportunity to hear it some more.

“Alright,” she mumbled. “If you say so.” She settled down on the floor and Blackagar followed suit on the other side of the glass, sitting close so he could hear her.

She began to read, focusing hard on the words in front of her and trying hard not to stumble over them. Once she dared to look up at Blackagar. He was watching her with the intense gaze he always possessed, and it caused her to stutter. Swiftly she buried her head into the book again, fervently hoping he hadn’t noticed.

Her words became background noise to Blackagar as he studied her. He was enthralled by her hair, ever shifting, ever moving in random patterns around her, a river of red endlessly flowing, contrasting perfectly with the pale of her skin.

Then she looked at him briefly, catching him by surprise. By the time he averted his gaze, she had already returned to the book. Reminding himself not to stare, he focused on listening to her read.

 

Much to her surprise, Blackagar seemed to enjoy her reading. She still felt a little awkward about it, but the more she read the more the awkwardness faded, and she found herself becoming more confident when reading to him. Soon it became an unspoken thing between them; when they ran out of other things to talk about, she would read a chapter to him.

A few days passed, and Medusa was on her way to Blackagar's quarters, the book clutched in her arms. By then she had grown used to making the trip, and the intense feeling of anxiety about getting caught had diminished somewhat.

Until she nearly ran right into Maximus.

“Oh!” she cried, nearly dropping the book. “I’m sorry, Prince Maximus! I didn’t see you there!”

“It is quite alright, my lady,” he said smoothly. He peered at the book in her arms. “What have you got there?”

In her flustered state, it took Medusa a moment to realize what he was referring to. “Oh, er, it’s a book I found. I’ve been reading it for a little.”

“ _’The Man Out of Time’_ ,” Maximus quoted. “Interesting. Is that why you’ve been disappearing? I couldn’t help but notice you seem to be absent often during the day.”

Medusa was so taken aback that words failed her for a moment. She stared at him before her mind finally caught up with her. “Er, yes, in fact. I’ve found it so interesting that I’ve been going off to read it by myself. With my cousins, you can’t expect much peace and quiet, you know.” She gave him what she hoped was a convincing smile.

Maximus eyed her shrewdly. “Hm, I suppose you are right. Those three are quite the loud bunch. Well, when you’re done with that book, I think I’d like to have a go at it.”

Medusa nodded. “Certainly.”

He then bowed low to her. “My lady.”

She curtsied back. “Prince Maximus.”

Then to her everlasting relief he walked away and left her alone. When she was sure he was far out of earshot, she let out a shaky breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. Though he didn’t seem to know anything, the encounter thoroughly spooked her. She didn’t want to, but she felt she had to turn back out of fear of being discovered, so she beat a hasty retreat to her room.

 

Medusa looked up from the boring annals of Inhuman biology as a knock sounded on her door. Thankful for the interruption, she shut the book. “Come in.”

The door swung open, and the anxious faces of her three cousins peered in through the doorway.

“Are you alright, Medusa?” Triton asked. “Are you unwell?”

She sat up on her bed and frowned. “No, why?”

“Blackagar told us you didn’t visit him today. He was worried.”

Medusa let out a sigh. In retrospect, she should have expected something like this. She beckoned them all into her room, and reached out with a strand of hair to shut the door.

“I ran into Maximus on the way to visit Blackagar,” she explained. “He started asking me questions and I got scared so I just…came back here.”

Gorgon narrowed his eyes. “What sort of questions did he ask you?”

A tendril of hair wrapped around her hand. “Well, he asked about that book I’ve been reading to Blackagar, then he asked if that’s why I disappeared every day.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I lied and told him I went to get away from you three to read.”

“Believable,” Triton interjected.

“Did he believe you?” Karnak asked.

“I think so,” she said.

Gorgon let out a heavy sigh. “This is what I was afraid of. What if he had seen through your lie? What if he found out?”

Medusa bit back her exasperation. “He wouldn’t find out. He never visits Blackagar anyway.”

“He may if he suspects something!” Gorgon sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to continue to visit him, Medusa.”

She glared at him severely. “I intend to keep visiting Blackagar until he is let out, and you cannot sway me on that, cousin.”

Gorgon groaned. “I don’t think you realize how much trouble you could be in if you were found out.”

“Oh, I have a good idea,” Medusa said confidently. “I just think it’s worth getting in trouble to visit him.”

“Fine,” Gorgon conceded. “But no more going alone. From now on at least one of us is coming with you when you go to visit him.

“Fine,” Medusa said, “so long as you don’t mind being bored to death by my reading.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Karnak said.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Medusa teased lightly. Then she paused as a thought occurred to her. “Just how worried was Blackagar?”

“Very worried, it seemed,” he offered. “After all, you haven’t missed a day before without explanation. We couldn’t discern everything he was trying to say, but he was obviously very upset.”

Medusa felt a pang of guilt, imagining how frantic he must have looked. “I didn’t mean to make him so upset.”

“Don’t worry yourself over it. He’ll understand when you see him tomorrow.”

_I hope so_ , she thought.

 

By the next day Medusa was aching to go see Blackagar, and could hardly stand the wait until they had the chance to sneak off. Triton was the one chosen to accompany her, and he struggled valiantly to maintain an air of secrecy despite Medusa’s impatience.

It was slow going to Blackagar’s chambers, as Triton made sure to check around every corner before they proceeded. Medusa’s hair started braiding and unbraiding itself out of pure agitation. Inwardly she worried she may have angered him. It was a baseless fear; he had been nothing except kind to her over the past week, but irrational thoughts had a bad habit of making their way into her mind.

Finally, they made it to the doors of his chambers. Triton punched in the code and she was through the doors when the gap was just wide enough to let her through.

Blackagar heard the doors open, and he jumped up, making his way to the window as quickly as he could. It felt as if a huge weight had finally been lifted off his chest when he saw Medusa hurrying up to the glass, her hair twisting and writhing.

She usually came in the afternoon, in the window between lunch and dinner, and yesterday at first he had thought she was just a little late, but s it grew later in the day, his worry grew. She had never missed a day before. In his isolation, his mind wandered easily to the worst-case scenario. She could have gotten sick or hurt, and he would have had no way of knowing. Then his mind had chanced upon another, even more terrible thought: what if she had grown tired of trying to speak to him? What if the pressure of communicating with someone who could not talk back had become too much?

By the time his cousins came, he was about to go out of his mind. Though they did not know where she had gone to either, they did their best to reassure him everything was well, and he had tried to reassure himself too, but it wasn’t until the moment he saw her that the anxieties vanished and a crushing relief hit him.

“I’m sorry, Blackagar,” Medusa breathed, unable to deduce whether he was angry or not by the look in his eyes. “I ran into Maximus on the way here and I got scared, so I didn’t come.”

He scrunched his brow. Out of all the reasons he could think of why she hadn’t come the day before, his brother certainly wasn’t one of them. _Maximus?_

“He started asking questions, asking where I went every day,” she explained. “I lied…and he believed me.”

“I told you there was nothing to be concerned over,” Triton said, coming to stand beside her. “Well, besides Maximus, it seems.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, still unable to tell if he was angry. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He shook his head, the skin around his eyes crinkling with a smile. _It’s alright. I’m glad you are here now_.

Medusa sighed internally, also feeling a great sense of relief. “Well…I brought _The Man Out of Time_.” She met his eyes. “I thought that I might read two chapters to make up for the day we lost.”

The crinkles became more prominent as his smile did behind the muzzle. _I like that idea._ He gave Triton a questioning look. _What about you?_

Triton shrugged his scaly shoulders. “I don’t mind so long as it’s an interesting story.”

Medusa grinned and they all settled down to enjoy the story.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have asked and/or wondering, Blackagar will have telepathy later on.  
> EDIT: Forgot to add the beginning of the chapter cuz I'm dumb.  
> EDIT 2: I realized I never fixed this chapter. NOW it's fixed.

Maximus considered himself a perceptive person. Of course, he liked that his “gifts” only added to his perceptiveness. The unnerved look on the servants’ faces when he deduced something about them had given him many a good snigger over time. He knew when someone was lying, whether it was merely by their body language or reaching in to peer at their thoughts, and Lady Medusalith was no exception to this. He had a nagging feeling she had lied to him about where she disappeared to every day, and though it was none of his business what she was doing, he wanted to know out of pure boredom and interest in her.

So, he went with the most obvious scenario.

 

Five days after the “incident” concerning Maximus, Medusa leaned against the wall next to the window, reading away and engrossed in the story. They had just reached the point where the Man Out of Time had experienced the untimely death of his best friend and the struggle thereafter.

Occasionally she would glance at Blackagar. He too sat on the floor, his shoulder pressed against the glass. His gaze was far away, fixed on some nonexistent point, but she knew he was listening. The more she read, the more she could see the tension leaving his body as he gradually relaxed.

Gorgon, Triton and Karnak also sat on the floor in various positions. They were engrossed in the story as well, relaxed as they listened to Medusa read. An air of comfort suffused the room, where often there was fear and uncertainty.

Medusa was halfway through a sentence when a tapping cut through her words. She looked up to see Blackagar tapping on the glass, his eyes wide.

“What is it?” she asked, frowning.

He waved his hands, pointing at her as his expression grew even more frantic.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Shh!” Gorgon’s sharp remark cut through the air, sending her into silence. He propped himself up on one arm from where he was lying on the floor. After a moment of stillness, his eyes became wide as well. “Someone is coming.”

Panic shot through Medusa like a lightning bolt. She stood up so fast the book clattered to the floor. “What do I do?”

“Be quiet!” Karnak hissed, leaping to his feet. “We need to hide you!”

“Where?” she whispered fiercely, blood pounding in her ears.

There was another knock on the glass, and they turned. Blackagar pointed to his left, indicating the recess in the same wall that led to the door to his chambers.

“It’ll have to do,” Gorgon grunted. Scooping up the book, he practically carried her over to the recess and stowed her in the shadows. “Stay still.”

Medusa huddled down, pressing herself into the corner between the wall and the door and hugging the book to her chest. From where she was she could partially see the door that exited the room, but everything else was obscured from her view by the opposite wall of the recess.

Gorgon hurriedly rejoined his cousins in front of the window, all of them looking frantic.

“Don’t look scared,” Karnak muttered out of the side of his mouth.

They all schooled their expressions into neutrality just as the code was entered and the doors opened.

Medusa wished she could become the shadows themselves as Maximus walked in, a small smirk on his face. Her hair twitched with fear, but she forced it to stay still, not daring to move a muscle or a hair lest he see her hidden there.

None of them had to pretend to be surprised. Blackagar’s eyes widened. His brother was the last person he had expected to walk in; if anyone he had expected Agon.

“Maximus!” Karnak exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Maximus spread his hands. “I merely wanted to visit my brother.”

Triton eyed him disbelievingly. “You never do that.”

“I know,” he said, “but seeing as he is about to get married and all that, I thought I might finally pay him a visit again.”

The three cousins exchanged nervous glances, unsure if it was his true intention.

Maximus locked eyes with his brother. Blackagar’s narrowed. _Why are you here, Maximus?_

What he didn’t know was his unspoken words rang loud and clear in Maximus’ mind, and a grin played on his lips. “I just wanted to tell you about your bride-to-be. I have had the pleasure of meeting her more than once, and I think you will be pleased.”

Medusa bit her lip. She had no idea what Blackagar’s face looked like at that moment.

“Her hair is red like fire…” As he spoke, Maximus unleashed his mental powers in an attempt to scan the room for mental presences. The only one he could see was Blackagar’s; power radiated from him, drowning out all other presences in the room with its sheer enormity.

“I’m sure she would be flattered by your words,” Karnak said when he finished speaking.

Maximus retracted his powers, glancing around the room nonchalantly and seeing nothing. “I am sure she would. I hope my description has shed some light on the situation.”

Blackagar nodded. _It has._

“In that case, I will take my leave.” He bowed low. “Brother.”

Blackagar bowed in return, and Maximus turned on his heel and left, begrudgingly accepting that he seemed to be wrong about Medusa’s whereabouts.

When the doors shut behind him, there was a collective sigh of relief from everyone in the room. A few more moments passed before Medusa had the nerve to ask, “Is it safe to come out now?”

“Yes,” Gorgon muttered. “I think so.”

Medusa darted out of her hiding place, and only then did she realize just how much her legs were shaking. She met Blackagar’s eyes. His brow was furrowed deeply and his posture was stiff.

“We need to get you out of here,” Gorgon growled. “Before somebody else comes.”

Medusa saw the widening of Blackagar’s eyes, and she swiftly reassured him. “Don’t worry. I’ll come back to see you regardless of what Maximus does.”

His shoulders relaxed just slightly. _Thank you._

“Come on,” Gorgon said, grabbing her by the shoulder and leading her away. “We need to go.”

“Goodbye,” she whispered to him, allowing herself to be led out. “I’ll be back.”

Blackagar raised a hand and gave her the smallest of waves. _Please._

 

Gorgon argued fiercely with Medusa, but she would not be swayed, and she continued to Blackagar. Over the next few days, their visits became regrettably shorter, filled with apprehensive glances over a shoulder or jumps at the smallest creak of the metal wall, and forgone was the tradition of Medusa reading to him; she didn’t stay long enough to get through one.

Now that he was largely bereft of her presence, Blackagar came to realize just how much he enjoyed Medusa’s visits. It had been the highlight of his day, and it still was, but he learned to relish every moment she was with him, for neither of them knew for how long they could go without getting caught.

One day, Blackagar had yet another visitor, this one more unexpected.

“I hope you are faring well, my son,” said Agon, stopping just short of the thick glass barrier.

Blackagar clasped his hands behind his back, dipping his head in acknowledgment. The unspoken question hung in the air. Why are you here?

“The date of the test has finally been set,” said the king. “It will be two days from now.”

There was a pause as he digested the information, then he nodded slowly.

“I have no doubt in my mind that you will pass the test. Even if you don't, we can always try again.” Agon cleared his throat. “If it were up to me entirely I wouldn't even have you undergo the test. I trust you, Blackagar. But your mother…she had different ideas, and persuaded the council to be in favor of the test. As you know, if the council agrees about something, my hands are tied.”

Blackagar shifted his feet.

Agon sighed. “Well, I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but I have a meeting to attend.” He reached out and briefly touched the glass. “I have every reason in the world to be confident about you, my son. You will do fine.”

Blackagar hoped he was right.

 

 “Tomorrow?” Triton exclaimed. “That's far sooner than I would have thought.”

Blackagar could only shrug helplessly.

All four of them had come to visit the Crown Prince that day. They were all crowded around the glass, having to be squished together due to Gorgon’s massive frame taking up most of the space, with Medusa sandwiched somewhat uncomfortably between Gorgon’s bicep and Triton’s scaly skin.

“You have had plenty of time to prepare,” Karnak said. “If you remain calm and focused all will be well.”

Medusa was by no means an expert on body language, especially not with someone whose face was halfway obscured, but she could tell he was nervous. His posture was stiffer than it had been the few times she had visited before, a slight furrow in his brow.

“You'll be fine,” she said lamely, not knowing what else to say.

Blackagar looked over at her. His eyes were dark and troubled.

“We have confidence in you.” She tried to sound confident in her words, but in truth she had no idea whether or not she should be. She didn't know the first thing about the test, other than that it involved going through pain.

“That's right,” Karnak agreed. “We know you are more than capable, and you should know that too.”

Blackagar nodded, his eyes remaining on Medusa. She did her best to give him an encouraging smile, and he slowly blinked back at her.

_Wish me luck._

 

Thoroughly tired of the Inhuman biology her tutor insisted she read, Medusa shut the textbook and propped her chin in her hands with a weary sigh.

Tomorrow Blackagar would be tested for his entrance into the outside world, and it was a daunting thought even for her. If he didn’t pass the test, would they have to wait longer, and if so, how long? Would she be forced to marry Maximus instead? For some reason she could not place, the second question made her feel ill at ease.

She sat up, stretching her muscles and hair, trying to rid herself of the feeling. She didn’t understand why Rynda seemed so keen on bringing her eldest son hardship. It seemed that everyone besides her trusted in Blackagar’s control, but she insisted on putting him through useless pain.

The mere thought made Medusa feel hot with anger. The way she acted, she wouldn’t be surprised if Rynda would be glad to see Blackagar fail the test.

With another sigh, she pushed herself off her be. It was already dark outside, and it was nearing time for her to sleep, but she was the furthest thing from tired. Nervous energy coursed through her body and her hair as her thoughts dwelled upon the test and the possible outcomes. She was pacing up and down the length of her room when something caught her eye. The Man Out of Time lay on her desk, forgotten in the past few days of apprehension and worry. She went over and picked it up, an idea popping into her head as she stared at the cover. It was probably a stupid thing to do, but a good thing nonetheless.

She warred with herself briefly before finally deciding. Book in hand, she darted from her room.

 

Blackagar was just about to begin his nightly meditation when he heard the familiar rumble of the doors beyond his chambers. Confused, he rose and went to the window to see who had come to him at such a late hour.

“Blackagar?” A familiar voice whispered, a slight figure with voluminous hair looming up out of the darkness.

He felt his heart speed up a little bit as he heard Medusa’s voice. She stepped closer, her face coming into view in the light coming from his chambers.

She gave him a small smile. “I’m not interrupting you, am I?”

He shook his head. In a moment of self-consciousness, he reached up to smooth down his hair, which had become disheveled and spiky thanks to his workout, but Medusa held up a hand, stopping him.

“Don’t worry about it. I really don’t mind.”

Blackagar let his hand drop down to his side again, and he tilted his head to the side. What are you doing here?

She shifted the book in her arms. “Well…I thought you might need a little encouragement before your big day tomorrow.”

He nodded, feeling grateful and rather touched she had risked getting caught to come down and see him.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” she asked.

Nod.

She let out a dry, humorless laugh. “So am I.”

_Why?_

“Don’t misunderstand me, I have full confidence in your control, it’s just…” She shook her head, red locks swaying with the motion. “I can’t help but worry about what would happen if you don’t pass.”

Blackagar pressed a hand to the glass. _Don’t worry. I will pass._

On an impulse, she reached up, pressing her fingers opposite her hand. “I know you will.” Then becoming aware of what she was doing, she let her hand drop and shifted the book in her arms. “I was thinking I might read a chapter to you since we haven’t been able to in the past few days. Would you like that?”

He nodded, smiling behind his muzzle.

Medusa returned the smile, glad to see stress had not weighed him down completely. They both sat down on the floor, and she briefly flipped through the pages to find her previous place before she began to read.

Blackagar leaned against the glass, listening to the soft drone of her voice. _This may be the last time you ever hear her read to you_. He pushed the unwanted thought away. He was confident he would pass the test, and in just a couple of days he would finally be free to roam the halls of the palace and socialize with others, no longer constrained by a wall of metal and glass.

Medusa carried on reading. Her voice had become like a sedative for him; just the sound of it made him relax, the stresses of life seeming to melt away with every word she spoke. As he sat there with his head leaning against the glass, his eyelids began to droop. He tried his hardest to keep them open, but the temptation for them to fall shut again was overwhelming. His eyes shut, and he drifted off into the realm of dreams.

 

He was flying, soaring high over Attilan. The blue light surrounding him as he flew broke through the stray wisps of cloud he passed. He felt freer than he had ever felt before, and he preformed a little spin, enjoying the feeling of the air in his face.

This was what awaited him in the outside world.

He dove and spun, bursting through the white puffs of cloud hanging in the endless azure and relishing the freedom that only the sky could offer. A huge smile stretched across his face; no muzzle was there to restrain his mouth. He was free.

Then everything went dark.

Blackagar stopped himself mid-flight, confused. It was not as if a cloud had covered the sun; everything had just disappeared. Attilan far below him, the clouds, the sky and the sun were all gone, replaced by an inky, impenetrable black.

“Brother.”

He whirled at the sound of the voice. It echoed throughout the darkness, assaulting his ears over and over again, but yet he could see no one. There was not one thing that stood out in the black. For all he could see, he was alone.

“Brother…” The voice came again, softer and more drawn out like a crooning whisper. “Is that you I feel?”

Blackagar again spun in a circle, looking for the source of the voice, but again there was none to be found. It sounded very much like Maximus, which made no sense to him. He rarely dreamed, and if he  did it was never of his brother.

“It is you.”

This time the voice was right behind him, and he spun around, looking into Maximus’ face.

“Blackagar!”

 

“Blackagar?”

He awoke with a start, raising his head and looking around wildly, unable to remember where he was, the dream fading swiftly from his mind.

“Blackagar.”

He looked over at the source of the voice and locked eyes with Medusa, who sat on the other side of the glass, watching him with a small smile.

“You fell asleep while I was reading,” she said, a hint of amusement barely concealed in her voice.

Then it all came back to him. He dipped his head to her in apology, embarrassed he had slipped off in her presence, and he became aware of the slight pain in his cheek where the muzzle had been digging in from being pressed against the glass.

“It’s alright,” she told him. “I think you need to get some real sleep, though.”

Blackagar nodded his agreement, blinking to focus his bleary vision.

She rose to her feet, the book in her arms. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer.” She stifled a yawn of her own with one hand. “I think I need some sleep myself.”

Blackagar stood up as well, unable to resist a smile towards her.

She reached out and touched the glass, giving him a meaningful look. “I’ll see you when you’re free, and not a moment later, alright?”

He too touched the glass, feeling an immense swell of gratitude for her encouragement. Without her visits, he found it hard to think of where he’d be. _Alright._

She bobbed a small curtsy. “I’ll see you soon.”

He bowed. _And you._

With a final smile, she vanished into the dark.

 

He meditated for longer than usual that night, despite the fatigue that weighed heavily on him. He stretched all his muscles, even his neck, preparing them for the pain. Tomorrow was the decisive day when he entered the true world or stayed behind. He tried his best not to feel resentment towards his mother. She did not visit him often; perhaps that was why she doubted him He was somewhat confident in his ability to remain silent even under extreme duress, but the thought of interacting with others—becoming a king—while remaining silent gave him more pause.

However, there was Medusa. So far she was doing an excellent job at understanding what he tried to convey, and she could only get better. If she was to be his queen—his voice—then perhaps he shouldn't have been so apprehensive. Tandem with that concept was marriage to her. If she didn't have a hard time interpreting him, then a relationship with her would not be as bad as he had previously thought.

A relationship.

The arm he was stretching out faltered as the true weight hit him. Once he was freed from his chambers, he was to pursue a relationship with Medusa, but would he do out of actual want or sense of duty? Would she?

He had no idea. He had only met her a little less than three weeks ago, and only because Gorgon, Karnak and Triton were terrible liars and had a propensity for foolishness. Yet she kept coming back.

“…I want to get to know you as much as I can,” she had told him.

He shared the sentiment, and by now he knew quite a bit about her. She liked the color purple, liked reading, disliked tutoring and could be horribly stubborn and headstrong at times. Even from the first day they had shared their apprehensions about marriage, about powers and being royalty. They had to, but Blackagar felt comfortable with it after the words she had said to him.

_It's alright to be afraid._

He stretched his back, savoring the feeling of his muscles loosening and exhaled. It was entirely plausible that she would pursue a relationship out of want. Perhaps he would too, though he had yet to sort out his own feelings. Interacting with a female his own age had been a foreign experience before she had come, yet he would not deny that there was a bond forming between them. He understood her, and she seemed to understand him.

It felt good after years of training in isolation.

All his muscles were loose and stretched. He breathed deeply, clearing his mind of everything and steeled himself for the next day.

 

Maximus lay in bed, yet he did not sleep. It was night, yet some servants remained awake, staying up late to finish whatever menial task that had been assigned to them. Maximus keenly felt their presences when they were near to him, a low hum in the back of his mind that often interrupted his other pursuits.

“Leave,” he growled into his pillow, an irrational anger bubbling within him. Often he would be awake far into the night until everyone was asleep, his thoughts running at a million miles an hour. Sometimes their thoughts and minds wouldn't bother him at all, yet this was one of his worse nights. He was having trouble keeping everything under control. A presence neared him, a servant walking down an adjacent hall, being careful and quiet so as not to wake those around him. Maximus felt him approach, and he extended his powers outwards.

“Sleep,” he hissed.

He was rewarded by the sound of a faint thud from somewhere nearby. He smiled and turned over, the course of his thoughts slowing down, allowing him to maintain a steady control.

That night, he dreamed of his brother as he often did, but this time, he was able to reach out to Blackagar, just for a moment, and when he woke he took glee in that fact.

In the morning, a guard found the unfortunate servant lying unconscious in the hallway, nearly stumbling over him in the dark. When the servant woke, he had no recollection of what happened. He was sent to the doctors, and no one knew otherwise.

 

“Are you sure you wish to go through with the test still?”

“Yes. For the hundredth time, I am quite sure.”

Agon sighed despairingly. “I just don't understand why you would want to put him through such pain. Hasn't he suffered enough?”

Rynda pulled the hairpin from the tightly wound bun on her head, and her hair spilled down her back in messy waves. “I want to be sure Blackagar has adequate control of his powers.”

“I have trained him personally,” Agon argued. “Is that not trustworthy enough for you?”

She turned away from her mirror, chancing a look at her husband. “I do trust the training you have given him, but this is will be a completely new experience for him. He will meet his future bride, and in a few week’s time stand before all the people of Attilan. I want to be absolutely sure. The people don't know the true destructive capability he holds.”

“You weren't always like this,” Agon murmured. “You haven't visited him in months. Is that why you doubt his control?”

“No,” Rynda said, beginning to scrub the makeup from her face. “I haven't visited him because I've been so busy with the arrangements for Lady Medusalith’s arrival and the marriage. It is merely a matter of caution.”

Agon watched as she removed all her makeup and jewelry in preparation for bed. She had become colder and more distant in the past few months, more prone to being snappish. Oftentimes she had a sharp word for one of the cousins, whereas she had been kind to them before. It was clear the stress of the marriage arrangements was affecting her, and he did his best to reassure his three nephews that once the event had passed, she would return to normal.

“I trust your judgement, my dear,” he said finally. Leaning forward, he kissed the top of her head. “I will head off to bed. Good night.”

Rynda silently watched him go in the reflection of the mirror. Then she looked at herself, and a great agony welled up inside her.


	10. Chapter 10

Morning came quickly for Blackagar.

Agon and Rynda walked down to Blackagar's chambers together. The Crown Prince was waiting for them at the door to his cell. The muzzle was gone, leaving his face uncovered and his voice without a barrier to the world.

The door opened, and Blackagar faced his parents without barrier.

“Hello, son,” said Agon. Rynda only nodded curtly

He bowed to his parents nonetheless, and his father placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Touch was yet another unfamiliar experience to him, yet he did not fear it. He longed for it.

“Are you ready?”

Blackagar nodded, and he stepped from his chambers for the first time in years.

The three of them walked down the industrial halls together, Blackagar in between his mother and father. As they walked, Agon could not help but notice that at some point his son had grown several inches taller than him. He had the true bearings of a king; he walked confidently and with purpose despite knowing the pain he was to endure, and he stood tall, face set with determination and eyes unwaveringly steely.

Agon felt his heart swell, both with pride and with sadness. He was proud of his son for persevering despite the many hardships, but was sad that he had to endure them and he had to watch him grow up through a window. But after that day things would become easier, or so he hoped.

They entered the medical wing of the palace. It was where Blackagar had spent most of his time outside of his cell, being subjected to experiments by geneticists. Now, the rows of medical equipment were abandoned, having been cleared for the event that was to take place. The members of the Royal Family walked right through the medical wing, paying it no heed. They came to the far side of the room where a single door was inset into the wall. Agon punched in a code on the keypad next to it and it opened, allowing Blackagar to step inside.

The room they entered buzzed with activity. Scientists—geneticists to be specific—swarmed all around. They stood on a platform, thick doors to their left and right with a staircase straight ahead leading downwards to where the room truly opened up. A large glass box sat in the middle of the floor, hooked up to various computers and mechanisms. It wasn't hard for Blackagar to tell where he would be going.

“Your Majesties!” An Inhuman with a pointy head exited the door off to their right, bowing so low that his point nearly scraped the metal grating. “Right on time.”

“Are you set to get started?” Agon asked.

“Yes.” The scientist cleared his throat and looked at Blackagar. “Crown Prince, if you would proceed down the steps, you will be readied for your test. Your parents will stay in the viewing rooms, for safety.”

Blackagar nodded and glanced at his parents. Agon caught his eye and smiled.

“You will do fine, son.”

Rynda said nothing.

Blackagar turned on his heel and marched down the stairs. The scientists saw him, and he felt their eyes on him, the tension in the room heightening significantly.

As he reached the bottom, an Inhuman with reddish skin approached him. Though he tried to hide it, the apprehension in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Crown Prince,” he said, “if you would.” He gestured towards the large glass box.

Blackagar eyed the box as he approached it. A door was inset into the thick glass, allowing him to go inside. Within there was a black, formidable-looking chair, surrounded by machinery. Steeling his nerves, he stepped through the door into the box.

“Please sit,” said the red Inhuman.

Blackagar did as he was bid, situating himself comfortably and laying his arms on the armrests.

“Roll up one sleeve,” instructed the scientist. “It does not matter which.”

He reached over, grasping the left sleeve of his suit and pulling the skintight material halfway up his arm, revealing skin that was nearly as white as the stripes adorning his chest. Sunlight had never once touched his skin.

“Perfect.” The scientist then proceeded to bind his arms to the armrests with the cuffs dangling off the side of them. “Just a precaution,” he told Blackagar as he worked. “We wouldn't want you to accidentally fall and hurt yourself. He finished and stood back. “Are you ready, Your Majesty?”

He nodded.

“Excellent. Please await further instruction.” The scientist exited the box, shutting the door behind him, the buzz of the outside becoming muted.

Blackagar watched as the scientists finished up whatever task they were working on and hurried up the stairs one by one, either taking the door to the left or to the right into the viewing ports. Twisting his head around, he could see the windows quite a few feet above him, surrounded by what was undoubtedly thick metal. Nothing was being risked.

“Crown Prince.” The voice of the pointy-headed scientist crackled over an intercom within the box, the sound echoing oddly within the enclosed space. “Are you sufficiently prepared to undergo this test of control?”

Blackagar scanned the viewing windows until he came across the faces he was looking for. Agon and Rynda stood side by side, watching him.

He nodded then, willing his muscles to relax and clenching his jaw tightly shut.

“Then we shall proceed.” There was a whirring sound as a mechanical arm sprouted from somewhere behind the chair and extended to his left. On the end of the arm was a small probe-like device, which would be the source of the pain. The probe stopped just short of his bared batch of skin.

“I will count down from three,” said the scientist.

Blackagar closed his eyes. Not seeing it would make it easier.

“Three…”

Not a sound had passed his lips in years, and he would not let that happen now.

“Two…”

The images of his cousins, Medusa, flashed through his mind. Soon he would be with them, speaking with them face to face so long as he maintained control.

“One…”

He was ready.

And there was pain.

It traveled through his body from his arm with lightning speed, seizing his muscles. He gritted his teeth, unwilling to make a sound, his body stiff. His hands gripped the armrests of the chair so hard that somewhere in the back of his mind it dimly registered that the metal was creaking under the force of his grip. His teeth were clenched so hard he thought they might shatter. His whole body was seized with agony, and he was not sure how much longer he could hold on…

The next thing he knew, there was no more pain. He was slumped in the chair, panting heavily. The door to the glass box was thrown open and Agon rushed in, swiftly undoing the cuffs holding his arms down.

“Are you alright, Blackagar?” the king said worriedly, looking him over.

It took him a moment to realize what was asked of him, but Blackagar finally nodded. He realized his fists were still clenched over the armrests and let go only to see he had left hand-shaped indentations in the metal.

“Don't worry about that,” Agon said, helping him to his feet.

Blackagar eyed his father, a silent question asked in his gaze. Agon caught on immediately, and smiled widely, putting and arm about his shoulders as he led him from the box.

“You have passed the test, my son.”

 

Medusa, Karnak, Triton and Gorgon were all scattered around the oversized table the meeting room of the Royal Palace, awaiting word on whether or not Blackagar had passed the test. Barely a word had been spoken since they sat there, yet tension hung thick in the air.

They all fidgeted in one way or another; anything to pass the anxious minutes of waiting. Gorgon fiddled with some long stiletto knife, practicing his slices on the unfortunate bowl of fruit. Karnak continuously wound and unwound the wrappings he typically kept around his hands. Triton plucked anxiously at his scales. Medusa’s hair would not stay still. It braided itself, then unbraided, then braided itself again. The strands not caught in the braid either wrapped around her hands or snaked across the table in aimless, random patterns.

She truly hoped Blackagar would pass the test. To be held in a cell for one’s entire life was unthinkable to her, and she wanted nothing more than for him to be in the outside world. She enjoyed the conversations they had, and they were not as one-sided as she had expected them to be at first. She was slowly beginning to get used to the way he communicated, whether it was with his hands or with his body, or merely his eyes, and once he was freed she would no longer have to sneak around to speak with him.

A silky tendril of red wrapped around her right hand. She enjoyed speaking with him; a realization she never would have even thought she would come to nearly four weeks ago when she stepped into the Royal Palace.

She was startled from her thoughts when the door opened suddenly. All four of them rose to their feet expectantly as Agon entered the meeting room, looking at him expectantly.

The king breathed deeply. “He has passed the test.”

They all breathed a collective sigh of relief, the tension in the air dissipating instantly. Medusa’s heart fluttered and she smiled widely.

“Is he well?” Karnak asked.

Agon nodded. “Yes, he is fine. He just needs to rest, so I would not advise visiting him today.”

Medusa was so caught up in her relief that she almost missed what the king said next.

“The maidservants will ensure that you are properly fitted into attire for tomorrow, Medusalith.”

She blinked, coming back to reality. “I'm sorry, what was that, Your Majesty?”

“Tomorrow you will meet Blackagar,” said Agon. “Both of you will be presented to the council. Your tutor most likely discussed this with you, yes?”

“Oh, right. Yes.” Truthfully she had no recollection of anything the tutor had said in the past week, much less anything about a presentation.

“You should report to them as soon as you can.”

“I will, Your Majesty.” As the king left, Medusa shot her cousins a look that said, “Help me.”

Triton shrugged. “You’re on your own. Being a queen means you bear with the clothes.”

She tried to be annoyed at him and her predicament, but she found she truly couldn't be. Blackagar would be free, and tomorrow she would meet him face to face for the first time.

 

A knock came upon the door of Maximus’ room.

“Come in,” the prince called lazily, turning away from the latest gadget he had been fiddling with.

The door opened to reveal Agon, who took a step into the room. “I merely wished to inform you that Blackagar has passed the test, and tomorrow he will meet Lady Medusalith and present himself to the council.”

Maximus’ expression was one of pleasant surprise. “Really? I didn't know if he would pass…”

“He has indeed,” Agon said with a smile. “And I for one am very relieved and proud that he did.”

“That is wonderful news, father. Thank you for telling me.”

“Certainly Maximus.” The king exited quietly, allowing Maximus to return to his work.

“You will fall, brother, one way or another..."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Just wanted to let you know that the next update might be a little bit in coming (i.e. a week or a bit more) because:  
> 1\. I'm going out of town. I'll still be able to write but posting would be harder.  
> 2\. I like to keep ahead of myself. What this means is that I've already written a good bit of the story ahead of this, but right now I'm only 10,000 words ahead because this chapter was longer than I thought it would be (35,000~ total for the whole story at the moment) and I'd like to be more ahead than that by like 5,000 words or something, totaling roughly 15,000 words ahead. Idk why it just keeps me motivated.  
> Also, I would like to say thank you to everyone for your kind reviews. I'm in a bit of a tough spot right now with being a college freshman on the horizon, and it has caused a LOT of anxiety for me, but your reviews always make me feel warm and fuzzy, so thank you all. <3 (No, I am not trying to guilt you into reviewing. Don't feel obligated if that's not your thing lol)

Medusa shifted her weight from one foot to another as discreetly as she could. They were beginning to hurt from standing in one place for so long, and the incredibly high heels she was wearing were not helping at all.

One by one, agonizingly slowly, the council members filed by the king and queen who stood in front of the throne, exchanged pleasantries with them, then with Maximus, then with her before finally taking their seats. She had curtsied so many times that day, it was a wonder she hadn't unbalanced yet due to her dress and shoes.

The dress she was stuffed in to was agonizingly tight, hugging her body like a glove and severely restricting her range of motion. It was pretty, she would admit. A lacy v-neck plunged down her clavicle, yet thankfully not too low. Strapless, it still somehow managed to stay tight to her body, with simple lace embroidery on the (suffocatingly tight) waistline. The overlong train was hooked into golden wrist loops, which helped prevent her from tripping disastrously. And, of course, the dress was all various shades of purple. Though she was met with protests by the maidservants and tailors and presented with several horrific alternate choices, Medusa finally had her way and was given the purple dress.

Her hair twitched slightly as she shifted, but she willed it to stay still as she curtsied to the next council member. She had spent the better part of an hour that morning ridding it of every tangle, snare and snarl, combing it into silky, shiny perfection which she was rather proud of, the red cascade blending wonderfully with the purple of her dress.

Both excitement and anxiety pulsed through her, but she kept it carefully concealed behind a mask of queenly composure and an increasingly fake smile. After the ceremony was complete, if there ever was a chance for her to turn away from marriage, it would be gone. She and Blackagar got along well, and they knew each other, but the idea of marrying him still made her stomach turn a little, sending the same unanswered questions swarming through her head. Would she ever love him? Did she already have feelings for him? Would he have feelings for her?

But on the flip side of that anxiety was the excitement. Blackagar would finally be free of the prison he had spent his entire life in, and she wouldn’t have to sneak around to have a conversation anymore. She could already picture the awe on his face as he experienced life, and the thought made her smile a little more genuine.

At last, the last council member sidled past, and Medusa dared to let her plastered-on smile drop a little, her cheeks (which were caked with at least an inch of makeup, or so she guessed) aching profusely. When the council member took his seat, Agon stepped forward to address the assembly.

“Honored members of the Council of Attilan, thank you for being here today. We have gathered here so that you may be introduced to the future rulers of Attilan, and it is my honor to formally introduce you to Lady Medusalith Amaquelin, of the House of Quelin.”

All eyes turned upon her, and she did her best to stand tall and appear dignified.

“Though of extremely distant relation to the Royal Family, she is still of the Royal Blood, and is as Inhuman as you or I,” Agon continued. “She has walked through the Terrigen Mists and come out with her unique gifts, and I can think of no better lady to be betrothed to my son.” He looked at her expectantly, and she remembered what she had to say.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my lords,” she said with a curtsy, her voice echoing loudly in the vastness of the Throne Room.

A murmur of greeting came from the assembled Council.

“And now I shall introduce you to my own son.” Agon snapped his fingers, and at the far end of the hall two officious-looking guards moved to the massive double doors, and one of them began to speak, his voice carrying across the hall.

“I present to you, the firstborn of the House of Agon, descendant of the Royal Blood and rightful heir to the throne of Attilan, the Crown Prince Blackagar Boltagon!”

The doors were opened, and in walked Blackagar.

He was dressed differently than the last time Medusa had seen him two days ago. His black and white bodysuit remained, but his headgear had changed. The muzzle was gone, his jaw and mouth were uncovered, but now a black cowl covered everything from his nose upwards save his eyes, glittering like blue pinpoints in the darkness of the mask. On the mask in the middle of his forehead was an odd device, a white two-pronged fork that stuck upwards and outwards from his face. It gleamed in the light as he strode down the room.

Medusa took a fortifying breath. _Calm down, Medusa. You've seen him plenty of times before. He's just dressed a little differently…and not behind a wall anymore._

Blackagar's eyes flickered to her briefly before reverting to straight ahead. Every inch of him presented dignity, confidence, kingship. He walked up the steps onto the dais, bowing before his parents. Briefly he met Maximus’ eyes, and his brother bowed stiffly.

Agon placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Blackagar, I introduce to you Lady Medusalith Amaquelin.”

Blackagar turned to face her, his lips curved upwards ever so slightly. It took a moment for Medusa to remember that, in the eyes of the court, they were meeting for the very first time.

“It is an honor to meet you, Prince Blackagar,” she said quietly, curtsying to him.

He crossed the dais to her. She was a vision of loveliness clad in her purple gown, though he could’ve done without the several layers of makeup. Though he had yet to meet any other girl his age, he knew without a doubt she outshone all of them. He took her hand in his, wondrously small against his own gloved one, and lifted it to his lips, greeting her in the traditional manner of Attilanian princes. Her skin was soft, softer than he had ever imagined skin to be, and he let his lips linger for a moment longer before drawing away.

Medusa’s hair shifted as the warmth of his lips touched her skin, instinctively wanting to come forward and shield her face, hiding her embarrassment, but she willed it to stay still. Briefly she met his gaze, resisting a genuine smile before they both turned and faced the council.

Agon addressed the council again. “Now that Prince Blackagar and Lady Medusalith have been formally introduced to each other, we should allow them a couple of weeks to get to know each other, yes?”

A murmur of agreement rose up from the council members, and Medusa inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. They weren’t getting married right away.

Agon looked at the two of them. “Blackagar and Medusalith, shall you lead us out?”

Blackagar nodded, offering Medusa his arm. She took it, thankful for the support as they descended the dais, her heels causing no small amount of uncertainty to her steps. Once they were off the dais she still held onto his arm but leaned a little less heavily upon it, unwilling to risk tripping and falling in front of the Council of Attilan.

They exited the Throne Room in what she hoped was a dignified manner, and she gently pulled Blackagar in the direction of the living quarters. When she was sure they were out of hearing range, she muttered, “This dress is strangling me!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Blackagar’s lips twitch upwards, a sight she had never seen before. He thought it was funny.

“A prince does not laugh at his betrothed,” she scolded halfheartedly.

He dipped his head, though amusement still glimmered in his eyes. _I am sorry._

“No you’re not,” she muttered. “Just get me out of this dress and these shoes and I’ll be happy.”

They made their way through the palace at a slower pace than Medusa would have liked, but she realized Blackagar was taking in the halls and the corridors as they passed through them, admiring the architecture and decoration.

“That’s right,” she murmured. “You’ve never seen this place before, have you?”

He looked at her, nodding.

“Well, in that case…” She stopped, leaning on his shoulder for support as she reached down with one hand, slipping the high heels from her feet and hooking them on her fingers. “Let’s take our time then.”

He frowned, gesturing at her dress.

She waved the implied suggestion away. “I can survive a little longer.”

He smiled openly at her, revealing white teeth. It was an odd yet not unwelcome sight, one she had never seen before, and she recognized the telltale crinkling of skin around his eyes. She smiled back.

“What are we waiting for?”

Excitement glinting in his eyes, he grabbed her hand and pulled her off down the hall.

It was intriguing to watch him, Medusa realized. Despite being the Crown Prince and just about as stoic as they came, he took everything in with a sort of confused awe. She couldn't blame him; she figured that if she had spent all her life in an underground cell, she would react in the same way.

He ran his fingers over the pillars, the walls, everything he could touch. Never had he walked the halls of the palace, yet suddenly everything was within his reach. Earlier he had to fight to resist the urge to veer off course as he was led to the Throne Room, but now he was free to do as he wished.

Squinting, he looked up at the shaft of sunlight streaming through one of the skylights in the arched ceiling. Only once before had he seen sunlight. It was a warm and precious gift that many seemed to take for granted.

“This place is beautiful, isn't it?” Medusa's voice echoed slightly in the hall.

Blackagar turned to her, nodding. She was no longer behind a barrier anymore, he realized. They were free to speak as often as they wished. The thought made him happy.

“Blackagar!”

Both of them turned at the exclamation. Gorgon was coming down the hall rapidly, Karnak and Triton practically running to keep up with his massive steps. Before Blackagar knew what was happening, he was swept up into a rib-crushing hug, his feet leaving the ground altogether.

“Oh, it is so good to see you out and about!” Gorgon exclaimed.

Medusa winced in sympathy as Blackagar bore through the hug. She swore she heard his back crack in several places, but finally Gorgon let him go.

“I know you haven't been out for very long, but what do you think so far?” Karnak asked.

The expression on Blackagar's face said enough. _It's wonderful._

“We were looking around before we went back to the living quarters so I could get out of this dress and into some more comfortable clothes,” Medusa supplied.

“Well how about we head that way and we can show Blackagar his new quarters while you change?” Karnak suggested.

New quarters. The notion that he would be sleeping outside of his chamber hadn't even occurred to him. He had thought he would simply return to his chamber at night, but no, he would be sleeping in the living quarters like everyone else from here on out. In a way, he felt mildly apprehensive. After nearly nineteen years of being in the same place every day all day, the thought of somewhere new was a little daunting. On the other hand, it felt incredibly freeing. No more would he be confined to a single room. He could move, take a walk, leave whenever he wanted.

Medusa looked towards Blackagar. “What do you think?”

He smiled.

 

Dinner time came around sooner than expected. Blackagar had only been offered a brief glimpse of his new quarters before being whisked off by his cousins and Medusa to be shown more of the palace, but from what he had seen his room was more than satisfactory.

He sat down at the dining table, Medusa (who had since changed into far more comfortable clothes) taking a seat to his right and his three cousins to his left. He felt awkward; he had never eaten with anyone else before, much less his entire family.

Medusa saw the stiffness in his posture and the slight downward turn of his lips. She let a lock of hair wrap itself around his wrist.

“Don't worry,” she murmured to him. “It will be fine.”

Her presence was a comfort. She was confident in him, the girl he had met only a few weeks ago, and that was enough to tell him he should relax himself.

Medusa swiftly retracted her hair from his arm when Agon and Rynda entered.

The king surveyed the table with a smile as he took his seat. “It is wonderful to finally have everyone at our table together.”

“Except Maximus,” Triton muttered. “Late as usual.”

“It matters not. He will be here eventually.” Agon snapped his fingers and the food was brought in on trays bore by servants. A plate heaping full of bread, cheeses and fruit were laid down in front of Blackagar along with a bowl of steaming soup that smelled of potatoes. His stomach growled loudly, and he suddenly became acutely aware that he hadn't eaten since that morning. Medusa snickered off to his right, but he ignored it in pursuit of one of life’s most joyous experiences: eating.

About a minute later, the door flew open and Maximus marched in.

“You're late,” Triton grumbled. “Again.”

“Apologies, father,” Maximus said, ignoring Triton’s comment. “I was preoccupied.” He then proceeded to the seat exactly opposite of Medusa and Blackagar and bowed deeply to her. “It is a pleasure to see you again, fair lady.”

“And you, Prince Maximus,” she returned. She now had a chance to study the two brothers side by side, and she could see how much they differed. Maximus was shorter, slighter of frame than Blackagar, and his eyes held a peculiar calculating coldness, as if when he looked at someone he was attempting to divine everything he could from them. She felt oddly glad it was Blackagar she was betrothed to. Nice though he was, there was something in Maximus that didn't sit well with her.

Maximus took his seat, and food was hurried out to him. “It is fortunate we finally have you with us, brother,” he said. “I am glad.”

Blackagar nodded, taking in his brother’s appearance. He seemed mildly disheveled. His clothes were rumpled and a few strands of hair hung down into his face. It seemed uncharacteristic for him, or at least as far as Blackagar could recall, but he was prevented from thinking on it further when Maximus spoke again.

“How are the two of you getting along?”

“Yes, what do you think of each other?” Agon joined in.

Medusa caught Blackagar's eyes. “Oh, um, Prince Blackagar has been very kind to me so far.”

“And communication?” the king continued. “Have there been any problems?”

“No,” Medusa said confidently. “There have been no problems. Talking with Prince Blackagar has been quite easy.”

“What do you think of Lady Medusalith, brother?” Maximus drawled. “She is most beautiful, is she not?”

Blackagar nodded. It wasn't an action forced out of politeness, it was a true nod of agreement. Medusa saw this and blushed, turning her face down to her hands and letting her hair sweep over her face.

“You are too kind, my lords,” she mumbled.

The rest of dinner passed quickly, and they all departed their separate ways. With great reluctance Medusa retreated to her room in order to read up on her studies, and she swore she saw a small frown of disappointment on Blackagar's face when she did.

She read her textbook until the words swam in front of her eyes, and when she finally looked up she realized the sun had set and night had come. Rubbing at her fatigued eyes, she stood up, stretching out her muscles and cracking her joints in several different places.

Perhaps Blackagar wouldn't mind a visit, she thought to herself. Figuring she had studied more than enough for one night, she acted on that notion and left her room. His room was only a couple of hallways away, and in less than a minute she found herself at his door.

“Blackagar?” she called softly, knocking on the door. “Are you in there?” Realizing that he of course could not answer her, she turned the doorknob and peeked in.

Blackagar rose from the window seat where he had been meditating, pleasantly surprised by her visit. He curled a hand to her, inviting her to enter the room.

She stepped fully into the room. The first thing that came to her attention was the fact that he was not wearing the cowl he had worn all day. It lay discarded on a chest of drawers, and for the first time the whole of his face was neared to her. She could truly see how he took after his father, bearing a strong jawline and noble features. The piercing blue of his eyes seemed to bore into her, and then they blinked, eyebrows dropping into a frown.

She realized she must have been staring, and she shook her head, embarrassment welling up inside her. “I-I'm sorry. I just came to see how you enjoyed your first day in…well, in the real world.”

Blackagar ran a hand through his hair, bereft of motions or facial expressions that could adequately express how he truly felt. Fortunately, Medusa caught on.

“Overwhelmed?” He nodded, and a small laugh escaped her. “I can only imagine. There's so much to take in, so much to see.”

He nodded again, pointing towards the window.

“You were admiring the view?” She crossed the room to peer out the window. Below, the lights of the palace and beyond that the rest of Attilan glittered like a host of stars come to earth, floating on a sea of darkness. “I don't blame you. It truly is beautiful.”

He came and sat down on the window seat, and she followed suit.

“At least somebody got to admire it,” she said. “I was busy studying.”

He pulled a face of distaste, and she smiled. “I don't think there is a soul in the world who enjoys studying, except maybe Karnak.”

He smiled back at that, knowing well his cousin's endless pursuit of knowledge. They fell into silence for a moment before she spoke again.

“Was it worth it?” she asked. “The test?”

He nodded. Now that his entire face was bared, it was easy to know what he thought. It was worth it.

“Did the test hurt a lot?”

In answer, he rolled back his sleeve, baring the fading red mark the electrical probe had left on his skin. Medusa gasped when she saw it.

“Does it pain you?”

He positioned his thumb and index finger close together. _A little bit._

Two tendrils of hair snaked out, gently caressing his arm. Blackagar felt a shiver go down his spine as the silky hair touched his bare skin. He had never experienced such a sensation before.

“It’s not fair you had to go through that,” she was saying. “Experiencing pain just for the sake of being free like everyone else.”

Blackagar could only shrug.

Medusa retracted her hair, meeting his gaze. “How can you remain so…indifferent?”

Again he could only shrug, hoping that she would catch his meaning. _It has to be done when you have powers like mine. I have no choice._

She seemed to understand and looked away with a sigh. Her eyes came to rest on the cowl lying crumpled on the dresser, and another question came to her mind. “Why do you wear that hood? I have never seen it before today.”

Blackagar crossed both arms over his chest, a sign she had grown to recognize over the past few weeks.

“Control.” She shook her head. “You and I are very different in that way. Your whole life is control and restraint and you bear with it, but I would have a harder time. I do not like being controlled.”

He saw the glint in her eye she acquired when annoyed about something, and smiled.

Medusa was about to say more, but before she could get the words out a huge yawn overtook her, and she smiled sheepishly at him. “Well, I guess if there was ever an indicator I needed to get some sleep, that was it.”

Blackagar nodded understandingly. A strand of hair touched his hand, squeezing briefly before letting go.

“You should get some sleep too,” she said. “It’s been a long and tiring day.”

He nodded again and she smiled before rising. “Good night, Blackagar.”

_Good night, Medusa_. He watched her leave, his hand and arm tingling where her hair had touched.

She was right of course. It had been a tiring day, and despite the fact he was in a bed he was not yet accustomed to, as soon as his head hit the pillow he was drifting off to sleep.

But all was not so restful in the realm of dreams.

 

He stood upon a black landscape, formless and unchanging as he had once before. Everything in his field of view was inky blackness. He looked down at himself. The darkness blended perfectly with the color of his bodysuit, making him look like nothing more than some white stripes, half a face and a two-pronged apparatus floating in nothingness.

Blackagar turned, inspecting his surroundings, and he saw it. A figure was crouched some distance from him with its back turned to him, a pinpoint of light in the otherwise desolate plain. He started moving towards the figure without truly knowing it, and as he drew closer he realized that the figure was Maximus. Confused, he stopped just short of his brother and stretched out a hand towards him, but his fingers barely brushed Maximus’ back when he whirled upon him, his face terrible with rage.

“Brother!”

Everything changed. Blackagar now stood in a garden amidst the vibrant sea of flowers. Medusa walked freely in the midst of them as well, a nonexistent breeze shifting her dress and her hair. She turned and saw him, her face lighting up with a beautiful, joyful smile, and she started to come towards him. Blackagar found himself reaching out to her, having the strange urge to pull her into his arms.

“No!”

Medusa looked away from him, and Blackagar looked too. Maximus stood some distance away, a pool of darkness around his feet, a gaping void in the flowers. He stared at Blackagar with an expression of undeniable hatred.

“She will be mine.” Maximus extended his arms to Medusa, and a tendril of darkness came forth from his head, snaking across the expanse and taking hold of her mind. “Come to me.”

Medusa started towards Maximus without a second glance towards Blackagar. Maximus grinned with evil satisfaction, a lustful glint entering his eyes. Blackagar stretched out a hand towards Medusa, but his feet seemed rooted in place. Unable to stop himself, he opened his mouth.

The scene shattered, the garden, Medusa and Maximus all getting swept away violently as if they had been hit by the force of a hurricane. Now Blackagar stood in what he perceived to be his brother’s bedroom, Maximus himself curled up in a ball on top of his bedsheets. When he spotted the Crown Prince, he sat up straight, a manic grin taking over his features.

“If anyone were to know what really went on in my mind, everything would be ruined, which is why I don't tell anyone. It's my little secret, and you know what?” He crept towards the edge of the bed, still staring Blackagar right in the eye. “My mind is millions, no, billions of times better than any other Inhuman ever to walk through the Mists, and nobody even knows.”

Blackagar stared, unable to understand what was being said to him.

Maximus tilted his head, and he rapped his knuckles again the wood of his bed frame. “Your time runs perilously short, brother.”


	12. Chapter 12

Someone was knocking in the real world. Blackagar sat up, his breath hitching as a gasp caught in his throat. At first he didn't recognize his surroundings, and he threw the sheets off of himself, stumbling over to the door from whence the increasingly irritating knocking issued. He yanked open the door and came face to face with Medusa. Then it started coming back to him: the pain of the test, the presentation before the council, the afternoon spent exploring the halls of the palace, and everything fell into place.

Medusa opened her mouth, presumably to say something, but no words came forth. Instead she just looked at him, her face rapidly turning red.

Blackagar just stared back, bleary-eyed and groggy, not understanding what was going on.

“I-I’m sorry!” Medusa burst out at last. “It’s just…breakfast will be in a few minutes!” And without further ado she scurried off down the hall, her hair writhing frantically behind her.

Blackagar stared after her for a few moments until she disappeared from his view. Still confused as to why she had acted that way, he stepped back into his room. Then he looked down at himself, and understood why.

Most nights he slept without a shirt, more than eager to go without after a whole day of being confined to his bodysuit. In his sleep-addled state, he hadn’t even thought to put one on before opening the door.

_No wonder_ , he thought, feeling embarrassed himself, and hurried to put on his bodysuit.

 

Medusa took a seat at the table, mortified and wishing a crack would open in the floor and swallow her up. She hadn’t meant to intrude on him, and truthfully she hadn’t. He had opened the door, but she had just stood and gawked at him like some sort of schoolgirl. But she couldn’t help it. It had been unexpected, and he was fit. She hadn’t truly taken into consideration what his bodysuit molded so tightly against before, but now she knew all too well, and the mere thought of it made the blood rise to her cheeks once more.

At that moment, a sleepy Triton shuffled into the room, flopping down into his seat. Medusa ducked her head, shielding her face with her hair, and fortunately the fishlike Inhuman was far too groggy to take notice of her flustered state.

Just when she thought she couldn’t embarrass herself more than when she had first walked into his chambers on the day she met him, she had gone and surprised herself. Any minute he would come walking in—most likely angry at her, she figured—and she would have to—

A light touch on her shoulder made her levitate nearly three feet out of her seat. She twisted herself around, and to her horror, found herself staring Blackagar straight in the face. He was now (thankfully) wearing his bodysuit in addition to his cowl.

“I’m sorry!” she squeaked before he could make a move, wishing for death’s sweet embrace. “I truly didn’t mean to…”

She trailed off as he shook his head and pointed to himself. It’s my fault, not yours.

Medusa felt like she could pass out from relief. He wasn’t angry with her. _I really need to stop thinking he’ll be angry with me_ , she told herself.

She started to say more, but before she could, Gorgon burst through the door, Karnak, Maximus, and the king and queen following in his wake.

“Good morning, dear cousins!” he boomed, being the most enthusiastic person in the early hours out of all of them, which was sometimes a never ending source of annoyance. “Was your first night in the real world satisfactory, Blackagar?”

The prince paused before nodding. The dreams he had experienced were now distant, lying on the very edge of his mind. Though they had been disturbing, they were nothing more than oddities brought about by the stress of the previous day’s events.

“That is lovely to know,” Maximus said, taking his seat.

Blackagar stared at his brother hard, the sight of him bringing the visions of his dreams forward to surge through his mind’s eye with new clarity. His hair was combed to perfection, his clothing straight and devoid of wrinkles, and he looked, well, princely. It was a far cry from the deranged, maniacal appearance he had held in the previous night's dream.

“Is something the matter, brother?” Maximus asked, looking confused.

Realizing he must have been staring for far too long, Blackagar blinked and shook his head, taking his seat. _At least he stares too_ , Medusa thought with a smirk.

The food was brought out to them, and they all dug into breakfast heartily.

“What are your plans today?” Agon asked as they ate.

“I was thinking Prince Blackagar and I would take a walk through the palace gardens,” Medusa said, looking expectantly towards him. “What do you think?”

Blackagar nodded vigorously. The mere thought of walking through the gardens filled him with excitement, to experience the things he had been bereft of all his life: fresh air, sunlight, flowers, trees.

Agon laughed. “That's a yes if I ever saw one!”

“How about you, Prince Maximus?” she inquired of his younger brother. “Would you like to join us?”

Maximus gazed at her with his steely eyes. “I am grateful for the invitation, my lady, but I'm afraid I have other things to attend to.”

“Perhaps after your walk you would come to the training grounds,” Gorgon suggested. “I desire a good skirmish between dear Blackagar and I.”

Medusa frowned at her cousin. “Gorgon, I hardly think that's fair.”

He only laughed raucously. “I'm afraid you underestimate the prince, little Medusa.”

She turned her gaze to Blackagar questioningly. He met her eyes and his lips curled upwards into a confident smirk. _I know what I'm doing._

She stabbed a strawberry with her fork. “If you say so.”

Breakfast couldn't have gone any slower for Blackagar, and as soon as they were dismissed, he was up and hurrying towards the doors.

“Slow down, Blackagar!” Medusa called after him. “Not everyone can walk as fast as you!”

He slowed his pace, allowing her to catch up to him. She looped an arm through his, ensuring she would not be left behind again.

“You'd get lost without me anyway,” she told him teasingly.

Blackagar smiled, and they went off together.

Maximus saw this friendly exchange, and a seed of jealousy sprouted deep within.

Blackagar's face when they entered the gardens was incomparable with any expression Medusa had seen in her life. With a mere widening of the eyes and parting of the lips he expressed a wondrous awe at the flora that surrounded him. He didn't need words.

Medusa couldn't resist a laugh. “You like what you see?”

Blackagar turned his eyes to her, and he nodded. _I do, Medusa._

They made their way through the garden slowly but surely. Every few feet Blackagar would stop and inspect whatever plant or tree happened to be in front of him, oftentimes running his fingers over it. He had read plenty and seen countless pictures, but they were nothing compared to the real thing. Endless shades of vibrant colors stretched out before him, highlighted by the morning sun, and it was almost too much to take in. All he could do was look and touch, and know that it was real.

Medusa didn't mind the slow pace. She was content to watch him take in the many sights and sounds the outdoors had to offer. It made her both happy and sad, she realized. Happy because he was finally free of his confines and had a chance to be exposed to the real world, but sad because he was experiencing it so late in life, coming to see things that he should have grown up with rather than being shut up in a soundproof cell for eighteen years.

A warm breeze drifted through the garden. Blackagar turned his face into it, allowing the warmth to caress his face. The outdoors was better than he could have ever imagined it being. The fresh air and sunlight made him feel energized and powerful, like he could run a hundred miles. And he could, for there was no longer any cell walls to stop him.

As he took in his surroundings, he noticed a clump of purple flowers nearby. They were some sort of orchid, and they shivered as the breeze caught them. Their dusky hue compelled him to pluck one from the bunch.

Medusa was caught off guard when Blackagar turned around with a flower in his hand. She stared at it dumbly until he moved his hand forward a little more, making the message clear.

_For you._

“Thank you,” she said, feeling her heart flutter in her chest as she accepted the flower from him. “It is a lovely shade of purple.”

He nodded knowingly. _That's why I picked it for you._

Giving him a smile and hoping she wasn't blushing noticeably, she placed the flower in her hair, and it curled easily around the stem, nestling it into place.

“I like it,” she said.

_It looks lovely on you._ There was no way for him to get that across, and he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to, so he smiled and moved on.

The sun had risen high in the sky by the time they were finished going through the gardens. Blackagar was amazed by it all, and he was still processing when Medusa tugged on his hand.

“Gorgon wanted to spar with you, remember?”

A grin worked its way onto his face as he remembered his cousin's earlier request. For the longest time Gorgon had boasted about his ability to beat Triton easily, and that even Karnak had trouble beating him. Blackagar had wanted to go up against him and see what transpired. Gorgon had been more than happy to take up the challenge, and it had often been a subject of banter between the two of them. Now, finally, they could initiate the long-awaited skirmish.

Medusa guided him towards the training grounds. He was grateful for her presence, as he kept turning his head to take in the shrubbery and architecture they passed by. Several times he almost ran into or tripped over something, but was mercifully saved the embarrassment by her.

“Ah, there you are!” Gorgon boomed when they arrived. “I was wondering when you would show.”

“We walked slowly,” Medusa said.

“Understandable.” He flexed his arms, making the muscles underneath his skin ripple. “Are you ready, cousin?”

Blackagar nodded, taking in his surroundings. The “arena” they were to spar in was nothing more than a large, grassless ellipse of trodden dirt. Many pits and bumps riddled the ground from past skirmishes, but they did not worry Blackagar. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped into the dirt ring, facing Gorgon, who grinned at him wolfishly.

Medusa went over to one of the stone benches used to watch skirmishes where Triton was and took a seat beside him, her curiosity piqued about the spectacle she was going to witness.

Karnak stepped up to the edge of the ring, having been appointed the official referee. “The rules are very simple. There will be no attempts to inflict injury upon your opponent. We do not want to be paying a visit to the medical ward…again.” He cleared his throat. “If something goes wrong, you two are responsible. None of us were ever here.”

Medusa leaned over and muttered in Triton’s ear, “I hope Blackagar knows what he's getting in to.”

“Oh, he does,” Triton said confidently. “I would say he's an even better fighter than Gorgon.”

She blinked. “Really?”

He nodded knowingly. “In his spare time in his cell he would practice fighting. He's had years of experience, though not against a live target I suppose.” He shrugged his scaly shoulders. “Even so, I am confident in Blackagar's abilities.”

“Do you understand the rules?” Karnak called out to the competing cousins.

Both nodded.

“Good. Now on the count of three, you will—“

“Ah, but you are forgetting something, dear Karnak,” Gorgon interrupted.

He frowned. “And what might that be?”

Gorgon grinned. “We must know to whom the fair lady in our midst will pledge her support.”

Medusa’s eyes widened when she realized he was referring to her. “It would be unfair!” she spluttered, purposely avoiding looking at Blackagar. “I can’t choose one over the other!”

“But you must,” said Gorgon. He was still grinning madly, and Medusa swore he was getting some sort of cruel pleasure from her embarrassment. “It is tradition, and only fitting.”

She glared at him murderously. “I dislike tradition.”

“Nevertheless, you must choose one of us.”

Blackagar stared at her expectantly. It had never occurred to him to invoke such a tradition, especially during a silly skirmish between cousins, but it made him curious as to who she would choose to support.

Face on fire, she looked up, daring to meet his eyes. “I suppose…I suppose I will choose Blackagar.” She saw the upward curl of his lips, and she ducked her head again, shielding her face with her hair and making a mental note to strangle Gorgon at a later time.

Gorgon placed a hand to his chest in mock indignation. “You wound me, dear Medusa. You would not support your own cousin whom you love so much.”

“My love for you has diminished greatly in the past minute,” she snarled through her hair.

Triton snickered.

“Now that that has been resolved, shall we begin?” Karnak asked.

Gorgon waved a hand. “Yes, yes. Get on with it.”

“Alright. Three…two…one… _fight_!”

The fight started instantly, barely giving Karnak any time to escape back to where Medusa and Triton looked on. Gorgon slammed one of his hooves against the dusty ground, generating a seismic wave and sending it straight towards Blackagar.

The bench Medusa and Triton sat upon rattled with the effects of the wave, and she clutched the stone edge hard to keep herself steady, her embarrassment forgotten as she watched the battle play out before her.

Blackagar had long anticipated such a starting move from his cousin, and he practically floated out of the path of the shockwave. His right fist upraised, he came at Gorgon at a curve, but he lifted an arm and caught his wrist. He swung an underhanded punch at Blackagar's stomach with his free arm, but Blackagar twisted out of the way. Getting halfway behind Gorgon, he threw a left at his head, but Gorgon whirled and blocked his blow with his arm again. He swiftly raised a leg and kicked Blackagar in the stomach with as much force as he dared, knocking the wind from him and sending him stumbling backwards.

Blackagar bent over, clutching his stomach and gasping in an attempt to regain his breath.

“Come now, cousin, I thought you'd be a little bit better than that,” Gorgon taunted jovially.

Blackagar scowled. Straightening himself, he flew at Gorgon again. Gorgon blocked his blow and swung at Blackagar's head, but he ducked and came back up, aiming with a mean right hook. Gorgon leaned back, letting his fist go whistling by, barely missing his nose. Blackagar struck at him again from the left, but he caught his arm with his right hand and swung with his left. In an effort to avoid the oncoming blow, Blackagar ripped himself from his cousin’s grasp and stumbled back a few feet. Seeing his chance, Gorgon raised a leg and smashed his hoof against the ground, generating a seismic wave.

Blackagar saw the wave coming towards him, but he was too close to get out of the way. Thinking fast, the air around him charged, and his feet left the ground entirely. He flew straight at Gorgon, tackling him around the middle and sending them both crashing to the ground. In a matter of seconds, he had both his arms pinned beneath him, and his hands resting firmly on his shoulders.

Medusa’s jaw dropped open. She hadn’t expected Blackagar to make such a tremendous jump like he just had.

“Ah, I didn’t expect that cousin!” Gorgon wheezed, still reeling from the force with which he had been struck.

Blackagar tilted his head. _Do you surrender?_

“I give in,” Gorgon said, letting his head fall back against the churned earth.

Satisfied, Blackagar got off of him and stood up, extending a hand to his downed cousin. Gorgon accepted his hand and levered himself to his hooves, grinning.

“Well fought, dear Blackagar.”

Medusa was still staring, completely in shock. She had known Gorgon for as long as she could remember, and no one save Karnak had ever bested him, especially on the first go. Blackagar looked as if he had barely broken a sweat.

“Well, it seems there is a clear winner,” Karnak said, sounding far from surprised.

That broke Medusa out of her shock. She stood up and clapped, unable to stop herself from grinning. Admittedly she was glad Blackagar had won. To finally see Gorgon beat after years of boasts about his inability to lose gave her a sense of pleasure.

“It seems the fair lady’s support was not wasted,” Gorgon proclaimed, throwing an arm about Blackagar’s shoulders.

She sent him a halfhearted glare. “Hush.” Then she looked at Blackagar. “That was…amazing.”

His eyes glittered from behind the mask. Your support aided me. He felt a surge of pride. He had won in front of her.

“How about we go and get some drinks?” Triton suggested. “It is hot out here.”

“A wonderful idea!” Gorgon said.

Blackagar came over and offered his arm to Medusa with a small smile. She accepted, returning the smile, and they all left the training grounds in high spirits.

 

Yet they were not the only ones who had been in on the skirmish. Maximus had seen it all, and he watched until they all disappeared into the palace. The strength and skill his brother had exhibited came as a surprise to him, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He would just have to make some upgrades.


	13. Chapter 13

“So would you consider your first day a success?”

Blackagar looked up to see Medusa standing in his doorway, and he nodded in response. _It has been one of the best days I've had in a very long time._

She smiled, twirling a strand of hair with one finger. “I had hoped you would.”

Blackagar gestured to the empty space of the window seat next to him. _Please sit._

She crossed the room, settling down next to him. Propping her elbow on the windowsill, she looked out at the darkened landscape. “You like this view a lot, don't you?”

He nodded, then opened his palms and pressed them together, closing his eyes. It took Medusa a moment to realize what he was saying.

“You meditate?”

He opened his eyes and nodded again.

“What for?”

He tapped his lips.

“I see,” she said. “Speaking of which, how do you feel about your control now that you’ve been around other people?”

He shrugged. _I am still a little apprehensive._

“There’s nothing to worry about. I trust you.”

The warm feeling he was beginning to grow accustomed to having bloomed in his chest once again Many feared his terrible power, feared he might not be able to control it, but she, his betrothed, his friend, he dared to think, was not afraid. She trusted him, and in his experience, trust was a rare thing to come across.

He smiled widely, and that was all Medusa wanted to see.

 

Tumultuous dreams invaded Blackagar’s sleep once again that night.

He stood on the same, dark plain he had been in the night before, and once again Maximus was there as well, but instead of crouched down, filled with some sort of primal, horrible rage, he merely stood in front of him, studying him as a scientist might study an interesting specimen.

“Hm, I thought I might see you here again,” Maximus said, the blue of his eyes seeming to glow against the darkness surrounding them.

Blackagar, even though he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that it was only a dream, did not answer. For all he knew, his voice’s destructiveness could carry over into the realm of dreams, or answering could result in him talking in his sleep, which was not a risk he was willing to take.

“Not answering, I see.” Maximus’ face twisted into a sneer of disdain. “No matter.”

There was a brief pause as Maximus shut his eyes, seeming to concentrate, his brow scrunching. Blackagar watched, more curious than anything, wondering what his brother was doing and why he seemed so hostile and scornful towards him.

Maximus opened his eyes after a long moment, his disdain replaced with a look of surprise. “Your thoughts are a mystery to me. They are clouded, shielded by your control.” He sighed. “Such a shame. If I could utilize your power, it would make everything so much easier.”

Blackagar stared, his face posing a question. What are you talking about?

Maximus’ sneer returned. “You remain so naïve, dear brother. You are only the could-have-been king. The lady Medusalith is only your could-have-been queen.” Then, unexpectedly, he rushed forwards, grabbing Blackagar by the shoulders, his face transforming into a mask of rage, his eyes shining with some insane light.

“The crown will be mine, do you hear that, Blackagar?” he yelled, shaking his brother hard. “Medusalith, the crown, Attilan, all of it will be mine!”

Out of all the things Maximus said, the idea of him taking Medusa for his own made him the angriest. He shoved him away and opened his mouth.

He woke up the next morning, his legs tangled in his sheets. He didn’t recall anything from his dreams, but he had a strange and unsettled feeling that stuck with him.

“Are you alright, Blackagar?” Medusa asked him at breakfast, noticing that a small frown had been etched on his face since he walked in the room.

He looked at her, and the unsettled feeling seemed to dissipate. He nodded, and she smiled at him.

“Good. Just making sure.”

Later on in the day, Medusa ended up having to go to her tutoring session (though not without complaint) and his cousins were busy with their various activities, which left Blackagar alone to his own devices. He resorted to wandering the hallways of the palace and enjoying the feeling of being free to roam, until his father pulled him aside.

“There you are, my son!” Agon called. “I wish to speak with you, if you don't mind.”

Pleasantly surprised, Blackagar fell into step with his father, and they walked through the halls together.

“How are you adjusting to your new life?” Agon queried.

Blackagar nodded. _I am adjusting well._

“That is excellent to hear. Admittedly I was a little worried about how you would adjust. I assume your cousins have showed you around most of the palace by now?”

Nod.

“Are you getting along well with Medusalith?”

Nod.

A small smile crept onto his face. “She is very beautiful, isn't she?”

Blackagar found himself nodding again. _Very._

“What about her personality? I know the two of you have only just met, but it pays to be compatible.”

_We are very compatible so far._

Agon was pleased things were working out so easily. “And communication? Have there been any problems with that?”

He shook his head.

“That is excellent to hear. Your communication can only improve over time, and it's good that you're starting off so well. When it comes to being king and ruling Attilan, I think Medusalith will be an excellent voice for you.” He let out a soft chuckle. “It seems she has no reservations about voicing her own thoughts, or at least from what I've seen.”

Blackagar realized he was right. She was extremely vocal about her own opinions, so there would be no problem with her voicing his.

“I hope you two will come to truly love each other eventually,” Agon carried on. “I know you've only known each other for two days, and it can be awkward and strange at first, but coming to love each other will make for a successful marriage.”

Blackagar blinked, unsure of how to respond. He had known Medusa for far longer than his father supposed, but the idea of love was still odd to him. Was he beginning to love her? Would he ever? Would she love him back? The notion provided too many unanswered questions.

“Your mother and I were betrothed to be married once. At the time I thought I’d never love her.” Agon laughed, seemingly at some amusing memory. “But that changed, and today I am very glad of it. Speaking of which, have either your mother or your brother spoken to you yet?”

Blackagar shook his head. _I wish they would._

A small frown creased the king’s regal features. “Hm. That is unfortunate.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Never you mind about it, my son. I’m sure they just have to…adjust to your presence.”

Blackagar nodded his agreement, though he was not quite sure if he believed his father’s words.

“Well, that’s enough talking,” Agon continued, giving him a warm smile. “I won’t keep you any longer. You go off and enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

Blackagar dipped his head. _Thank you._

And so the king and the prince parted their ways.

 

“Why have you not spoken with Blackagar, Rynda?”

“Speaking with him is no more than a one-sided conversation,” Rynda replied. “I don’t understand him like you do.”

“I know you’ve always felt a little apprehensive about communicating with him, but you used to visit him regardless of that,” Agon argued.

“But he is out among us now. I just…” She trailed off, heaving a sigh.

“He is finally free, and he wants nothing more to see his mother. He is just beginning to become accustomed to the outside world, and he needs all the help he can get. Don’t squander the opportunity while you still have it.”

Her heart ached with an almost unbearable intensity, but it remained carefully concealed behind the mask. She opened her mouth to say something, but her voice caught in her throat and would not come forth. So she shut her mouth and lowered her gaze, shaking her head.

Agon placed a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Just think about it, alright?”

She met his gaze and nodded. “I will.”

 

That night, Blackagar meditated for longer than he normally did in an effort to ensure no dreams plagued him that night. The stress of the new environment was getting to him, he supposed. He cleared his mind of everything. His parents, Gorgon, Triton, Karnak, the day’s events, even Medusa. While in meditation he often found his thoughts straying to her without meaning to, so he put in an extra effort to purge all thoughts of her from his mind.

Just as he had wished, no dreams came to him while he slept. He rested undisturbed.

 

Maximus sat hunched in his bed, probing the mass that was his brother’s thoughts and dreams. Much to his annoyance, he saw he had cleared his mind so well that there was no chance of him entering a dream. All his thoughts were locked and sealed behind a door of control so tightly that there were no dreams to be had.

Maximus pulled himself out of his brother’s thoughts, focusing his powers on keeping the others under his influence. He was disappointed he did not have the opportunity to torture him through dreams.

“You are smart, brother,” he murmured to his darkened bedroom. “But you will not outsmart Maximus, oh no. Soon you will realize just how pathetic you are.”


	14. Chapter 14

The next day, Blackagar was subjected to yet another awesome sight that Attilan had to offer: the sea.

Triton (who largely preferred to be in water than on land) suggested that they all went down to the pier nearest the palace.

“A capital idea!” Gorgon had bellowed.

So as soon as they could, they all wandered down to the piers. Blackagar heard the ocean before he saw it; a dull, consistent roar in the distance that grew louder as they approached.

“Have you ever seen the ocean, Blackagar?” Medusa asked, walking alongside him.

He shook his head.

She smiled. “I think you’ll like it.”

He didn’t doubt her.

They finally rounded the corner on the path they were taking, and Blackagar stopped in his tracks. The path went down a small hill and stretched a little further before turning into the pier, which stretched out into the ocean. The pictures hadn’t done it justice. Green water stretched out as far as he could see, smooth as glass. The sun glinted off the water, and the air had a salty tang to its smell. A warm breeze kissed his face, and Blackagar concluded that out of all the wonderful things he had seen in his brief tenure in the real world, this was one of the best.

“Glorious, isn't it?” Gorgon said.

Medusa grinned at the stupefied expression on his face. “I'm pretty sure he agrees with you, Gorgon?”

“Well don't just stand there!” Triton called from further ahead. “Come to the pier! The view is even better from there.”

Blackagar broke out of his awed daze. Eager to get nearer to the water, he took off down the hill at a rapid pace, leaving Medusa, Gorgon and Karnak struggling to catch up with him.

Triton reached the end of the pier first. Without waiting for the rest of them, he dove straight into the water with hardly a splash.

Blackagar came next. He stopped at the edge of the pier and looked out at the vast expanse of water. In the distance he could see the small forms of other aquatically gifted Inhumans swimming around. Some were splashing each other or playing tag, and the faint sounds of laughter drifted to his ears on the breeze.

The other three finally made it to where he stood.

Gorgon inhaled deeply, the mass of his chest swelling. “Ah, the fresh sea air always invigorates me.”

Medusa kicked off her shoes and sat down on the edge of the pier, pulling her lilac sundress above her knees and letting her legs dangle down to the water, her toes just barely brushing the surface. Had he been able to, Blackagar would have done the same.

“I can't remember the last time I did this,” she said with a sigh.

“It has been a while,” Karnak agreed.

At that moment, Triton popped out of the water right at Medusa’s feet, causing her to recoil slightly.

“Why don’t you come in the water, Medusa?” he suggested. “It feels wonderful.”

“No, thank you Triton,” she replied, flicking a bit of water at him with her toes.

He flicked some water back. “You were just saying how you couldn't remember the last time you did this!”

“You were underwater when I said that!”

“That doesn't mean I can't hear!”

Medusa let out a sigh of exasperation. “Triton, I'm a princess, the next Queen of Attilan. It would be—“

“—unseemly for you to get in the water?” Triton interrupted. “Yes, but what fun is life if you follow all the rules all the time?”

Blackagar's lips curled upwards in amusement.

“No, Triton,” Medusa insisted.

“But you loved the water when we were young! We couldn't keep you out of it.”

“When we were younger, yes. But we're older now, and I'm a princess.” A hint of wistfulness entered her voice. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn't.”

Triton caught Blackagar’s eye, a mischievous glint appearing in his luminescent orbs. He could only shrug at his cousin, not knowing what he was thinking, and unwilling to get mixed up in some plan that would likely end up with Triton’s untimely death.

Triton then looked at Gorgon, who stood right behind Medusa. He shared his cousin’s sense of mischief, and grinned widely at him. Karnak could only groan in exasperation softly as he saw what was about to happen.

“What if you wanted to go in the water?” Triton asked innocently.

Medusa frowned at him. “Well then I might—“

“That’s good enough!” Without hesitation, Gorgon gave Medusa a small push, sending her off the edge of the pier and into the water with a panicked yelp.

Gorgon nearly collapsed with laughter and even Karnak let out an amused huff, but Blackagar fought valiantly to maintain a stoic countenance. As amused as he was by his cousin’ antics, he knew with certainty that Medusa would not be.

She surfaced a with a gasp second later, her hair dark and flat with water.

“Triton! Gorgon!” Her enraged cry echoed across the water.

“Have a little fun, dear cousin,” Triton said, placing his arms behind his head and propelling himself on his back with his feet. “You need it.”

Medusa pushed her hair to the side, revealing her eyes alight with rage and her face red with joint anger and embarrassment. “I hope you two have enjoyed your lives, because they're about to be over!” She lunged at Triton, but he artfully scooted out of her reach.

“Lighten up,” he told her, grinning madly.

“No!” she fumed. “You've ruined my dress, my hair!”

“Dresses and hair can be cleaned, but fun can never be replaced,” Triton quipped in a perfect imitation of Karnak.

“I am the princess!” she protested. “What if somebody sees me like this?”

“Somebody already has seen you like this,” Gorgon said between laughs.

Medusa looked around wildly. “Who?”

“Us!” Gorgon roared with laughter, and Medusa glowered at him formidably.

“Mark my words, Gorgon Petragon! When I get out of here you won't be laughing anymore!”

Triton swam lazy circles around her. “You know, if you did everything you were supposed to, you wouldn't be so well acquainted with dear Blackagar over there.”

Out of all the times she had been embarrassed over the course of knowing the Crown Prince, this was the worst. She figured she looked something akin to a wet rat.

He could see the look of mortification crossing her face, so he smiled at her and moved one step to the left. He gave the still-laughing Gorgon a small push that unbalanced him, and send him tumbling head over hooves into the water.

Medusa laughed. Too focused on keeping herself afloat, she could not smother it behind her hand or diminish it into small giggles. She laughed loud and long, and it was one of the most beautiful sounds Blackagar had ever heard.

Gorgon’s head broke the surface of the water. “Revenge for pushing your lady into the water, eh?”

He grinned. You deserved it.

“Take this!” Medusa swung a section of hair in a wide arc across the surface of the water, sending a large wave splashing straight into Gorgon’s face. She laughed openly at his indignant expression, her irritation dissipating into amusement.

“Karnak! Help me!” Gorgon cried in mock distress.

“I would rather stay dry, thank you.” Karnak said, coming to stand beside Blackagar.

“What about you, Blackagar?” Medusa asked, twisting her head around to look at him. “You should come in. It feels really nice.”

Blackagar shook his head and imitated a swimming motion _. I can't swim._

She frowned. “Oh. I suppose you wouldn't know how.”

Triton took advantage of her distraction and used his feet to send a massive splash her way, hitting her upside the head. She spun around to face him, her expression one of comic outrage.

“How dare you splash the princess!”

Triton looked around searchingly. “What? I don’t see a princess, do you Gorgon?”

“No, cousin, all I see is little Medusa!”

She lunged at the both of them, and a full-on splash war ensued.

Karnak huffed and shook his head at their antics. “I’m glad to see Medusa’s fun side hasn’t disappeared completely.”

Blackagar looked at his cousin and tilted his head questioningly. What do you mean?

Karnak understood the unspoken question. “When Medusa was younger, far younger, she used to be one of the most fun-loving girls you would ever set eyes upon. Hardly a day went by when she wasn’t up to something that would probably get us all in trouble.”

Blackagar bit back a grin as an image of a younger, mischievous Medusa popped into his head.

“However, as she got older and the pressures of society and being royalty began to weigh down more heavily upon her, that side of her—and anything that showed undue emotion, really—vanished behind a wall of composure and manners.” He gave Blackagar a sideways glance. “A queen must always be composed and unsusceptible to emotions, not matter what they may be, and that was ingrained into her. However…” He turned his eyes back to the fracas in the water, watching as Medusa dealt Triton a huge splash. “I am glad to see that she is still as she used to be, even if she does hide it.”

Blackagar watched her as well. Karnak was right; she looked happier and freer there in the water splashing her cousins than he had ever seen her in the past few weeks that he had known her. Gone was the composure and suppressed emotion, replaced by a young woman laughing so hard her face was red, and he preferred her that way.

“I am also glad to see you have not completely suppressed,” Karnak continued. “You have the greatest control over your emotions of anyone I have ever met, but you still retain a light side.” A small smirk worked its way onto his face. “Between you and me, I personally think Gorgon needed that push into the water, but I never would say anything against my dear cousin.”

After a few more minutes, Medusa pushed herself in the direction of the pier. “That’s enough! I’ve had enough.”

Blackagar extended a hand down to her and she accepted it gratefully. He lifted her out of the water easily and set her on the pier. Her dress, now completely saturated, clung to her skin, and small streams of water ran from her hair onto the wood.

“Well, at least my shoes are dry,” she said, her hair twirling together and wringing itself out.

Gorgon hauled himself out of the water onto the pier, his hooves clattering loudly on the wood. “Would you like me to amend that?”

Medusa snatched up her shoes and placed herself behind Blackagar. “No, thank you.”

Triton exited the water last, sliding from it easily, the water falling away from his scaly hide as if it were composed of oil. “That was refreshing.”

Gorgon stomped his hooves, shaking water droplets from his furry legs. “Now I need to bathe. Sea water makes my fur all hard and sticky.”

“Same with my hair,” Medusa agreed, running her fingers through a wet strand.

“In that case, let’s head back,” Triton said. “That was enough to tide me over for today.”

“Did you have fun?” Gorgon asked Medusa as they began to head back.

“Yes…” she admitted, opting to go barefoot rather than get her shoes wet.

“So that means you aren’t mad at us?”

She looked up at him with a glint in her eye, stabbing a shoe in his direction. “No. I’m still mad at you, and you to, Triton. If I get in trouble for looking like a mess, the blame goes to you two.”

If Blackagar could laugh, he would’ve.

Gorgon grinned crookedly. “I would expect nothing less, dear Medusa.”

They made it back to the palace shortly thereafter, each going their separate ways, whether to get cleaned up or other activities.

Medusa ran a hand through her hair, huffing with annoyance at the hardened feeling the seawater caused. “I might be a little bit.”

Blackagar shrugged.

She situated her hair behind her shoulders. “I’ll find you when I get cleaned up, alright?”

Nod.

She smiled slightly. “I’ll see you in a little bit.” Then they too went their separate ways.

She walked down the hallway swiftly. Though from what she could see and hear, she was alone, but she still went quickly for fear of running into a royal, and because the feeling of damp fabric rubbing against her skin was rapidly becoming irksome.

She rounded the corner quickly, barely having enough time to stop herself before she ran straight into Maximus, who was coming from the opposite direction.

“Oh!” she breathed, the situation seeming all too much like the one she had experienced a week ago. “I’m sorry, Prince Maximus. I didn’t think you would be here.”

“On the contrary, Lady Medusalith, you are exactly who I was looking for.” He then looked her up and, his face taking on a confused expression. “What happened to you?”

“My cousins,” she said, once again acutely aware of how much of a mess she looked.

He nodded as if those two words explained everything to him. “I see.”

Medusa twirled a lock of hair around her finger nervously. “Why were you looking for me, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Maximus smiled charmingly. “I was wondering if you would like to accompany me on a walkthrough the gardens tomorrow afternoon.”

She blinked, surprised by the request. “Er, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

He gestured vaguely. “I merely wish to see how you are adjusting to your life here and how well you’re getting along with my brother.”

She studied him carefully, wondering if he knew something about her and Blackagar’s secret meetings after all, but his face betrayed nothing beyond polite curiosity. As much as she wanted to refuse, it would be impolite of her, and what harm could truly come of it?

“Alright,” she said finally. “I will join you.”

His grin widened. “Thank you, fair lady. I look forward to it.”

“As do I.”

He bowed deeply to her and walked by, turning the corner and disappearing.

Medusa exhaled deeply, trying to calm her nerves. He didn’t know anything. There was nothing to worry about. She hurried off to get cleaned up.


	15. Chapter 15

A little over half an hour later, she stepped from her washroom feeling marvelously refreshed, squeaky clean and wearing some fresh, dry clothing. The only thing left to do was comb out her hair, but there was no reason why she couldn’t take care of it in Blackagar’s presence.

She scooped up her comb and sought him out, having a fair idea of where he would be. Cautiously, she opened the door to his room, and sure enough he was there, sitting on his bed and reading a book. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and met her eyes.

“May I come in?” she asked. When he nodded she entered, shutting the door behind her and sitting down on the window seat.

“All I have left to do is comb my hair,” she said, indicating the comb and the tangled lengths of red.

Blackagar nodded knowingly, shutting the book and diverting the whole of his attention to her.

She willed a piece of hair into her free hand and began to comb through it. “What were you reading?”

He held up the book so she could see. The cover was embossed with six ovals of varying colors arranged in a circle, with the title of the book printed in the middle of them.

“’The Six Singularities of the Universe’,” Medusa read aloud. “I’ve read a little bit about them, but I wouldn’t know if the stories are real or not.”

Blackagar shrugged, setting the book aside.

“That reminds me…we haven’t read any more of The Man Out of Time since you were freed,” she mused. “Would you like to continue that?”

He nodded his approval. With everything else that had been going on over the past few days, it had completely slipped his mind.

“Maximus met me in the hallway on the way to get cleaned up,” she said, switching the subject. “He wanted to take me for a walk in the gardens tomorrow.”

Blackagar’s face darkened. _Why?_

“I don’t think he suspects anything,” she said. “Though I didn’t want to do it, I thought it would be rude to refuse him. He just wants to know how I’m adjusting to life here at the palace, and how well I’m getting to know you.”

His frown remained.

“It will be fine, Blackagar,” she assured him.

Slowly he nodded, still not quite convinced.

An interval of silence passed before Medusa spoke again. “Curse those blockheads I call my cousins!” She held up a section of hair so he could see. It had been twisted into a large and elaborate knot. The individual hairs moved and jerked as if trying to free themselves from the entanglement, but the movements seemed to only make the knot worse.

“This is why I don’t like the water, especially seawater,” she huffed, pulling at the knot with the teeth of her comb to no avail.

Wanting to help but not sure if she would accept, Blackagar stood up and stretched out a hand.

Medusa paused mid-comb, giving him a confused look. “You…you want to comb my hair for me?”

Nod.

She colored slightly. “Are you sure? It’s not exactly an easy task…”

He nodded again, twitching his fingers for her to give it to him. She handed the comb over and scooted over on the window seat to make room for him. Blackagar sat down and she extended her hair towards him, separating it into manageable strands.

He hesitated, his fingers fluttering nervously over the hairs, unsure if it would be wise to pick one up to better enable him ministrations. Medusa saw and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry. It won’t bite.” She let out a soft huff. “Not you, anyway.”

Blackagar gently picked up one of the strands and began to comb, being as careful as possible so as not to pull and cause pain. In that moment he wished terribly that he wasn’t wearing gloves and could feel the softness lying in his palm. A few nights ago when she had caressed his wound, he had marveled at the sheer silky softness of her hair. It was the softest thing he had ever had the pleasure of feeling, and he wished he could feel it again.

Medusa felt a shiver travel through her body as he pulled gently at the knots. Her hair was like an extra appendage; it could feel and react to sensations, and it was just as sensitive as her fingertips might be. Every now and then his thumb would softly brush over her hair in a gesture that seemed almost…intimate.

The thought made her blush harder. _He’s just being kind!_

_Kindness is more than words._

All of a sudden the words Crystal had spoken to her in reassurance about Blackagar when she first arrived at the palace came back to her in a rush. She glanced at him. He was working away, his eyes downcast and intent on his task that he had offered to do himself, and she saw that Crystal’s words had been the truth. Kindness was indeed more than words, for he could not speak a word and yet that was all he had ever been to her since they had first met. She felt rather ashamed for being so shallow as to assume kindness came only in the form of words, for were actions not louder?

Her chest tightened as she realized that Blackagar was doing exactly what Crystal used to do for her every night. In the whirlwind of activity, she had barely been able to spare a thought for the family she missed so, and emotion suddenly swelled within her.

Blackagar’s hands faltered as he heard a soft, shaky exhale. He looked up and saw Medusa’s head was bowed, a single tear running down her cheek. Alarm bells started going off in his head. She was crying. He may have been a master at controlling his own emotions, but he hadn’t the slightest idea of how to deal with others’, much less a female’s. Hoping he was doing the right thing, he reached out and touched her hand gently. She jolted slightly, surprised by the touch, but she did not pull away.

“I’m sorry, Blackagar,” she sniffed, using her free hand to wipe away the offending tear. “I didn’t mean to get all emotional. It’s just you combing my hair like that reminded me of how Crystal used to do it, and it made me realize how much I miss her and the rest of my family.”

Blackagar felt a twinge of guilt. His offer to help her had resulted in upsetting her. Tentatively he moved his hand a little further, enveloping her knuckles with his palm, the black of his gloves a stark contrast to the pale of her skin. He expected her to pull away at the movement, but she didn’t.

“I’ll be alright,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with the pads of her fingers. “Reality just set in a little bit.”

Blackagar tilted his head. _What do you mean?_

She turned to face him, her eyes rimmed with a pale pink tint. “Have you ever truly stopped to think about it? In a matter of weeks, you and I will be married. Our lives will never be as they once were.” She inhaled shakily. “It’s really terrifying, to be honest, and I don’t think I’m ready.”

Blackagar gave her hand a comforting squeeze. She was right; it was terrifying to think about, and he didn’t feel ready at all either. They still had yet to even love each other. _I could see myself loving you._

Medusa saw he understood what she was saying. “You don’t feel ready?”

He shook his head.

She smiled wryly. “I guess we’ll both be unprepared together. I almost think it’s better that way.”

He nodded. _I think so too._

She let out a sigh. “Well, I guess you don’t want to continue after that little scene.”

He nodded again. _I want to._

Her blush deepened. “If you insist.”

Blackagar moved to resume his combing, removing his hand from hers. It was only then when the warm sensation left and her hand felt cold did she realize just how long he had kept his hand there, and she felt disappointed he had moved it away. Embarrassed at her own feelings, she ducked her head and let him continue his work.

 

Long after everyone else had retired for the night, Maximus remained awake, working away. He was highly skilled with technology, and Agon had been more than happy to fuel his son’s hobby (perhaps in an attempt to make up for the pain his other son had been subjected to) and provided him with a seemingly neverending surplus of random mechanical items, ranging from circuit boards to discarded guns and other equally dangerous weapons.

Maximus didn’t care for any of the weapons. He was more intent on his new invention, and he had stayed up late many a night to work on it. This was one such night.

A stray strand of dark hair fell into his face as he fiddled with the wires. Irritably, he pushed it out of the way and proceeded to attach one of the many wires to its correct placing in the circuitry. The upside to working so late was that everyone else slept. There was no maddening swamp of minds buzzing around his, their thoughts and feelings drowning him like a flood. Aside from a guard or servant scurrying by, there was nothing but peace and quiet for the prince in the solitude of his bedroom.

“Maximus.”

The prince started, his device dropping to the desk with a loud clatter that shattered the stillness. He sat up straight, confused and staring at the wall in front of him. Had he just heard someone call out to him, or was it merely a trick of the overtired mind on him?

“Maximus.”

Indeed, someone was calling out to him, a voice he recognized. A smile twitching at his lips, he turned around in his chair to face Medusa.

She stood there in the middle of the room, like a pale specter. She was clad only in a sheer lavender nightgown that left very little to the imagination. Her hair surrounded her like some fiery corona, flicking and dancing as true, real flames might. Her eyes were like emeralds inset in porcelain skin, staring at him with hooded lids, red lips twitching upwards in a slight smirk.

He sat there, drinking in her appearance. She was indescribably beautiful to him in that moment, like an angel come down to earth, and as he stared at her, a great lust was incited deep within him and burned through his skin like a great, unstoppable wildfire.

“Maximus.” His name fell from her beautiful lips, sweet as honey and music to his ears, a sultry whisper that only heightened his desire. “My king.”

“Yes,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over her. “Your king.”

She stretched forth a dainty hand to him, her hair wrapping around her slender arm like a red vine. “Won’t you love me, my king?”

“Yes,” he said again, unable to resist any longer. He stood, taking her hand in his. It was soft and supple, and he squeezed it lightly, her other hand falling onto her waist.

“Kiss me,” she whispered breathlessly. She leaned forward, and he readied himself to reciprocate, but she was jerked out of his grasp. He looked up, and stepped back in horror.

Blackagar was there, his face terrible and thunderous, his eyes boring into him, filled with an intense rage. Medusa stood slightly behind him, and now she too looked angry, her eyes alight with the same glint he had seen many times before.

“Brother…” Maximus said, unable to stop himself from shaking at the thought of facing his brother’s wrath. “Don’t do something you’ll regret…I didn’t…”

Blackagar would hear none of it. With agonizing and terrible slowness, he opened his mouth.

“No, please!” Maximus dropped to his knees, cringing and covering his head. “Don’t kill me!” Trembling with fear, he waited.

Nothing. There was no word whispered like a death knell with terrible finality, no concussive blast ripping through his body and shattering his very bones. There was only silence, the very thing that protected him.

Slowly, Maximus moved his trembling limbs, daring to peer up between his arms to see why his brother had not killed him.

He stared at the wall. He was alone. Not a single soul was there in the room with him.

His limbs turned to jelly with relief, and he collapsed on the floor completely, blood pounding through his head and limbs. It had been nothing but a hallucination; a terrible one that led him to believe it was reality. He hadn’t experienced one of those since he had first walked out of the Terrigen Mists.

The prince let out a shaky sigh. It was a wonder he hadn’t woken up anybody with his cries, but it was just as well. Explaining himself was the last thing he needed to manage.

When he was sure his legs could support him, Maximus stood. The image of Medusa standing before him was burned into his mind, and with it came the hungering desire.

Suddenly feeling lightheaded, he opted to turn in for the night. After all, he needed to be prepared to speak with the real Medusa face to face the next day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry for taking so long to update, but college is proving to be quite the handful. Don't worry; I haven't abandoned it or anything.

Medusa stood in front of her vanity, dabbing blush onto her cheeks. It was nearing mid-afternoon, and Maximus was sure to show up soon. She had spent the better part of the morning preparing for her walk with him, ensuring she was in a sundress meant for the outdoors and that her makeup was nothing short of immaculate.

Absentmindedly, she touched her hair, and it was still silky smooth beneath her touch. Blackagar had not let a single tangle go uncombed. He was almost as good as Crystal had been, if not better (though she would never say it out loud).

The previous afternoon had been one of the most relaxing times she had the pleasure of experiencing in her short tenure at the palace. They sat there for almost an hour and she spoke every now and then while he combed through her hair, even in his gentle touch not leaving a single lock uncombed. All the tension in her hair and body had just melted away.

If she was truthful with herself, she wouldn’t mind if he offered to comb her hair again.

She was jarred from her train of thought by a knock at the door.

“Coming!” she called, dabbing the last bit of blush onto her cheeks before dropping the brush and running to the door. After a moment of primping, she opened the door.

Instead of Maximus, it was Blackagar who stood there, his hands clasped behind his back. He was struck by her appearance, so greatly different from the tangle-haired, mildly disheveled Medusa he was with yesterday. However, she was beautiful to him either way.

“Oh,” she breathed, feeling greatly relieved. “It’s only you.” She stepped away from the door. “Come in.”

Blackagar accepted her invitation with a dip of his head, stepping into the room. Glancing around, he realized he had never been in her room before. Lilac-hued sheets lay rumpled on the bed, and an assortment of books were scattered across the desk next to the window. It seemed to be organized chaos, which fit her well.

“Maximus should be here soon,” she said with a sigh, returning to her vanity.

At the mention of his brother’s name, Blackagar’s face darkened.

Medusa glanced at him in the mirror. “You’re worried still, aren’t you?”

Nod.

“Don’t be,” she murmured. “Even if he did suspect something, I don’t have to tell him the truth. You know, he might just be trying to be polite to his future queen.”

Blackagar shrugged halfheartedly.

She turned around to face him, a smile playing on her lips. “He didn’t suspect when I was in the room, Blackagar, or if he did he didn’t come back again, which implies he doesn’t anymore.” She took a step towards him. “I think you worry too much.” A tendril of red snaked out and booped him on the nose. “You need to lighten up.”

Blackagar went cross-eyed as he looked down at the hair, and he couldn’t help a smile.

Medusa laughed, retracting her hair. “That’s more like it.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting something.”

Both heads turned at the sound of a new voice. Maximus stood in the doorway to Medusa’s room, eyeing them both with his shrewd, unrelenting gaze.

“Uh, no, of course not,” Medusa said. “We were just…trying to get to know each other better while I waited for you.”

“A shame I have to cut you short,” said Maximus, though his face betrayed no remorse. “I am quite ready for our walk. Are you?”

“Yes.” She looked back at Blackagar. “I suppose I’ll see you later.”

He dipped his head, watching as Maximus offered an arm to Medusa. She accepted it and they left the room, leaving him on his own with his worry.

 

They walked in silence down to the gardens, leaving Medusa feeling rather awkward. She had no idea what she should say to him, much less what he would say to her. Fortunately as they entered the garden and began to traverse the flower-lined walkways, he finally broke the ice, his voice so unexpected it made her jump a little.

“So, what do you think of the palace?”

“It’s very beautiful,” she said truthfully, indicating the colorful array of flowers and plants that surrounded them. “One of the most beautiful places in Attilan, I’d think.”

Maximus nodded. “I trust you’re…adjusting to life here?”

“After a month, I think I’m finally getting used to things here,” she said with a wry smile. “It was a big change.”

“I understand,” said he. “To go from your family home to a palace…that is an immense transition.”

“It is,” she agreed, beginning to relax a little. He obviously didn’t suspect anything.

“What about my brother? How are you getting along with him?”

“We seem to be getting along fine,” she answered. “He is very kind to me.”

“Yes, from what I’ve seen you two seem to get along _extremely_ well,” he said, giving “extremely” a slight edge.

Medusa glanced at him behind a fringe of her hair, wondering if his words were some sort of veiled threat, but his face was neutral and his eyes were focused on the path ahead. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “It just seems almost as if you two knew each other before my father introduced you.”

Medusa gave what she hoped was a convincing laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It was just an observation, my lady,” he said smoothly. “It is fortuitous that you and Black have started your courtship so easily.”

Medusa blushed at the mention of courtship, but swiftly dismissed it from her mind in her eagerness to change the subject. “Black?”

“My nickname for him when we were children,” Maximus explained. “When I was very young I could never pronounce his full name, so I settled for Black or Black Bolt, and it stuck.”

She smiled at the thought of the brothers as young children. “Black Bolt…” she whispered to herself, letting the name roll off her tongue.

He sighed heavily. “Alas, time and circumstance have driven a rift between the two of us, and things are not as they once were.”

“Do you mind my asking why that is?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“When I walked through the Terrigen Mists, I came out unchanged. You must understand that is a great disgrace for any Inhuman, but especially for a member of the Royal Family.”

“Of course,” Medusa agreed.

“So there was me, the brother with no power, and Black, the brother with too much. I struggled with my situation greatly, and he was of little help to me unfortunately. I dare say he looked down upon me—he may still for all I know—and that has strained our relationship.”

Medusa frowned. What he described seemed uncharacteristic of Blackagar. She just couldn’t see him holding his brother in disdain over powers. Regardless, she felt sympathy for him.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, my lord,” she said. “Though I can’t imagine what that must be like, I must admit my powers are not particularly impressive, so I suppose I can relate a little bit.”

Maximus stopped walking, turning to face her fully. “My lady, your power is perhaps one of the most beautiful ones I have ever seen. Take pride in it. Even the seemingly unimpressive powers are a blessing.”

She blushed at the unexpected flattery. “Thank you, my lord.”

He then took her hand in both of his, his fingers encasing her skin. “You are a very beautiful woman Lady Medusalith. Black, he…he is very lucky to have you as his betrothed. Almost undeserving, I might think.”

She tilted her head. “Why do you think that?”

“He is silent. He cannot speak now or ever, and a woman such as yourself is deserving of a man who can actually communicate with you.”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid you think too little of your brother, my lord. Just because he is silent does not mean we are unable to communicate. We have been working on communicating with each other over...over these past few days, and it seems to be working out just fine.” She looked him in the eye. “Or perhaps you are thinking far too highly of me, my lord.”

He looked straight back at her. “I could never think too highly of you, my lady.”

 

Blackagar paced the length of his room, his hands behind his back. Worry stirred within his mind, giving him a restless energy, not just internally but externally as well. Every now and then a spark of blue energy would ting off one of the prongs of the apparatus on his forehead as a result of his thoughts, startling him as a result. When that wasn’t happening, he could literally taste the charge of the air around him. He didn’t bother trying to push it down. It was nowhere near as dangerous and destructive as his voice, and no one else was around.

His thoughts revolved around Maximus. Could his brother know of his and Medusa’s meetings, and if he did, did he care? He knew his brother was cunning of mind, perhaps making up for his lack of powers, but would he go so far as to get them both in trouble?

 _But why would he?_ his rational side asked. _Why would he want to get you in trouble? He is your brother, your blood._

 _The rift between you and him is wide_ , said his worry. _Having no powers took its toll on him, and in turn you as well._

_I tried the best I could to support him. I tried so hard._

_Not enough. He resents you for it._

_Ting!_

Blackagar jumped as a large spark of energy jumped between the prongs of his apparatus. The air around him was so charged he could feel the hair on his body rising, even beneath the confines of his suit.

His shoulders rising in a silent sigh, he ran a hand across his eyes, willing himself to relax. Slowly, the charge in the air began to dissipate, and his heartbeat slowed.

“Blackagar.”

He turned and saw Medusa standing in the doorway. _What happened?_ his face asked.

“It’s alright,” she said. “He did mention how well we were getting along, but I think I diverted any suspicion he may have had.”

His shoulders slumped in relief. His worrying had been for nothing.

Medusa paused, unsure if she should speak further, but she decided to continue. “He also spoke of the rift between the two of you.”

Blackagar was taken aback. He never would have thought Maximus would speak of that to anyone, much less his brother’s betrothed.

“He said it was caused by his attempted Terrigenesis,” she continued, feeling nothing but sympathy for the pair. He nodded, but she could tell by his face it was not something he wished to discuss further.

“Now that that’s over and done with, why don’t we go find those three cousins of mine?” she said, changing the subject. “I’m sure they’ll want to know how it went.”

He smiled his approval, knowing the antics of the trio would dissolve any lingering anxieties that remained on his mind.


	17. Chapter 17

She came to him again that night as he expected, but she came with an unexpected request.

He looked up to the sound of someone clearing their throat, and he saw her standing in his doorway as she had done hours before, The Man Out of Time clasped in one hand and a comb in the other, partially hidden by the waterfall of red hair.

What’s that for? He tilted his head towards the comb.

Her hair curled at the ends, the shorter strands near her face twisting up and hovering over her skin, giving away the embarrassment she felt. “I was wondering if you’d like to…that is, you don’t have to if you don’t want to…but I was wondering if you’d…er…that is…”

Figuring what her question was, he rose from his bed, causing her to go silent. He took the brush from her hand with a smile, and she flushed deeply.

“Thank you, Blackagar.”

They sat down on the window seat as they always did, and Medusa let her hair spread out over Blackagar’s lap. This time, he approached the combing of her hair with more confidence, though he still hesitated before touching the fiery locks.

Medusa smiled down at the book as she felt his fingers gently intertwine themselves in her hair, dispelling the tension within the individual strands. She did not to notice his slight apprehension before putting himself to the task, his fingers dancing lightly over the red before digging in, and she found it quite endearing. Trying not to get distracted by the occasional tender brush of a thumb, she opened the book to the place they had last left off and began to read.

It was a short chapter she soon found, detailing the villain’s preparation of weapons for his attempt to take out several parts of the world. The catalyst powering his weapons was a Cosmic Cube, a Tesseract, and it sounded oddly familiar to Medusa for reasons she could not place.

When she finished, Blackagar was still in the process of combing her hair. She shut the book slowly, chancing a glance at him of the corner of her eye. His eyes were turned downwards, half-lidded as he brushed in slow, gentle, methodical strokes. His hair was unkempt from the day, his posture relaxed as formality and manners were forgotten, and in that peaceful moment, he never looked more handsome to her.

 _I will marry him_ , she thought, and though she didn’t feel ready for marriage in of itself, being married to him was beginning to seem like something she would like.

“Maximus told me about your nickname,” she blurted before she could stop herself.

He stopped brushing mid-stroke, the comb hovering over her hair as he looked up at her in surprise. _What?_

Mentally kicking herself, she stuttered, “I-I don’t know why he told me, he just said it in passing and I was curious. He said it was Black, or Black Bolt.”

He paused before nodding slowly, resuming his combing. He hadn’t heard that nickname in years, and with it came a flood of memories from a simpler time.

_“Bwack!” a two-year-old Maximus squeaked, pointing a stubby finger at his brother._

_Blackagar gazed at his brother from behind the glass. His lips were encased in metal, but he wanted desperately to smile._

_“Yes, Maximus,” said Rynda gently, holding the young boy’s spare hand to keep him from stumbling. She gazed at both her sons with love and adoration. “Blackagar Boltagon, the future king.”_

_“Bwack Bowt!” Maximus proclaimed, gazing at his brother with blue eyes wide and full of wonderment._

_Rynda laughed at his attempt, and Blackagar returned his brother’s gaze with one of fondness._

But now there lay a large divide between them, a divide so wide that it was causing him to dream of Maximus hating him, so much so that he yearned to take away his princehood…and his queen.

“Personally, I like it,” Medusa said, breaking him out of the memories. From what she could tell, he didn’t seem to have a negative reaction to the title, so she continued. “It’s short and sweet…informal.” She smiled at him. “I think we’re past stodgy formalities, don’t you?”

Blackagar paused to think about it before nodding, a slow smile spreading across his face. He wouldn’t mind going by Black Bolt if it were from her.

“So can I call you Black Bolt, then?”

Nod.

Medusa grinned widely. “Alright…Black Bolt.”

The name was sweet when it came from her lips, not laced with memories of a time there was no vitriol between brothers. It was an endearment, a sign of closeness, and it made his heart flutter.

 

Despite his prolonged meditations, he dreamed again, the sweetness of the hours before gone from his mind.

There was no Maximus this time. He mistook it as a good dream, as he merely stood in a bright plain, and Medusa stood in front of him, smiling, lovely and fair as she always was.

But when he looked at her, his mind was seized with some foreign emotion, a strong desire that burned through him terribly and suddenly. It coursed through his body like an unstoppable wildfire, raging and hungering for satisfaction. He tried to fight against it, but it was too much, ridding him of self-control. He could not stop himself; he wanted to touch her, to be with her, to…to…

 

He woke in the dead of night, shaking and sweating. He sat up, kicking the blankets off and bringing his hands up in front of his face. They were pale and milky in the half-light, and they were shaking from the dream. He then touched his shoulders, his chest, feeling the muscles and skin beneath his fingertips. The raging fire of the dream was gone from him, but now he identified what the emotion had been.

Lust.

He knew lust was natural for all men and women to a point, even one such as he who had never gazed upon a woman his age before Medusa, but the feelings he had experienced in the dream were far beyond the scope of anything he knew as natural. A shiver went up his spine as he recalled the thoughts in the dream, things he could never ever envision himself doing to Medusa in the world of dreams or the waking one. It made him feel sick and defiled, not just for himself but for Medusa as well, that she would be the object of such atrocities.

But where had it come from? He had never even entertained such thoughts, much less to the point of having dreams of them, and it left him deeply unsettled. He laid down again, breathing deeply to slow down his heart and get his emotions under control, but he was so disturbed he did not sleep well for the rest of the night.

When morning finally came, a deep dread had settled in the pit of his stomach. His heart racing, he mentally prepared himself to see Medusa, unsure if the terrible lust would come upon him in the waking world when he saw her.

He walked into the dining hall, and as he suspected, she was already there. He looked at her, but even then the vile thoughts of the dream were no more appealing than they had been when he first woke earlier that night.

She turned around, and smiled when he eyes landed on him. “Good morning.”

He managed a smile back, taking his seat next to her at the table. It was clear the thoughts were not of his own invention. But then, who did they belong to?


	18. Chapter 18

Gorgon cracked his knuckles and flexed his arms. “I will beat you this time, cousin, I promise.”

Blackagar shot a grin his way in response. It was three days after the dream incident, and he had not dreamed since. He had put it into the back of his mind, and when Gorgon challenged him to another skirmish to win back his pride, he had been more than happy to accept.

“Before we begin, we must invoke tradition, of course,” Gorgon said, aiming a sweeping bow in Medusa’s direction. “To whom shall the fair lady pledge her support?”

Medusa smirked from her position on the bench some distance from the training field. Unlike last time, she had expected Gorgon to say something like that, and therefore she was considerably less embarrassed by it.

“I would have to side with Black Bolt on this one,” she said, unable to keep the humor from her voice.

Gorgon placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Ah…the fair lady wounds me once again, but no matter, for I shall win anyway.”

Medusa rolled her eyes. “Of course you will.”

Karnak, who sat next to her, tilted his head. “Black Bolt…I haven’t heard that nickname in years. Where did you hear it, Medusa?”

“It just got brought up one time,” she said, not wanting to bring up her encounter with Maximus.

Blackagar smirked, facing his cousin.

“Begin!” Karnak called.

This time around, Gorgon went for the less obvious approach. Instead of using his powers, he charged straight at his opponent, a sound that was half laugh half roar ripping from his throat.

Blackagar tensed, watching as Gorgon’s massive frame came thundering towards him, his hooves tearing up the dirt and sending it spraying.

Medusa watched, practically on the edge of her seat as Blackagar stood unmoving in the face of Gorgon’s oncoming attack. She knew he wouldn’t just stand there and take the blow, but it made her anxious nonetheless.

Blackagar waited until his cousin was almost upon him to move. Gorgon took a dive at him, intending on grabbing him around the middle and tackling him to the ground, but Blackagar jumped just in time, the air charging around him as his powers kicked in, allowing him to flip through the air and let Gorgon sail by under him. Gorgon tried to stop his charge, but with his momentum his hooves caught in the dirt and sent him crashing to the ground.

Medusa clapped a hand over her mouth to hide the tremendous grin on her face. Laughter bubbled up in her throat, but she managed to hold it back out of pity for the remaining shreds of Gorgon’s pride.

Blackagar used Gorgon’s fall to his advantage, swiftly placing him in a light chokehold. In response, Gorgon pushed himself off the ground with a loud grunt, but Blackagar held on valiantly, locking his legs over his cousin’s shoulders and keeping his arm around his neck.

“Blackagar.”

Both Gorgon and Blackagar froze mid-fight, and all heads turned as a new voice broke through the throes of the skirmish. Queen Rynda stood just beyond the edge of the dirt that served as the makeshift arena, holding herself as cold and as stiff as ever. She surveyed the young Inhumans with an unreadable expression before finally returning her gaze to her son.

“I wish to speak with you, Blackagar,” she said, her voice calm and level.

The Crown Prince hastily hopped off Gorgon’s back and dusted himself off. Medusa buried her face in her hands, mortified for his sake. However, Blackagar hid his embarrassment behind a wall of stoicism and walked over to his mother, giving her a slight bow.

Rynda looked over her son expressionlessly before saying, “Let us walk together.”

Finding he had no choice in the matter, they did so, walking off side by side. Gorgon went over and joined Karnak and Medusa as they watched the figures of mother and son walk towards the garden together.

“What do you suppose she wants?” Gorgon muttered.

“I don’t know,” Medusa replied worriedly as they both vanished from view.

Rynda and Blackagar walked in silence for a little while. The Crown Prince chanced a sidelong glance at his mother. She had not lost a bit of her queenly grace since he had last truly spoken with her; her steps were smooth and even, giving the appearance that she glided over the ground effortlessly.

“I…I am sorry I have not spoken to you sooner, my son,” she said at length.

Blackagar glanced at her again, but her eyes remained focused on the path ahead of them. He had hoped she would open up once they had departed from the presence of his cousins and Medusa, but it appeared his hope was in vain. Rynda remained impassive, her voice flat.

“I have been so busy with the wedding preparations that I have not been able to find the time,” she carried on. “Besides, your father thought it might be beneficial for you to experience things on your own or with Medusalith. Bonding comes more naturally when there are no parents around, or so he said.”

All Blackagar could do was nod.

“She is certainly a…fiery young woman. Sometimes I think she needs to curb her tongue.”

Blackagar’s lips turned downwards in the beginnings of a scowl, but he restrained himself from showing any further displeasure with his mother’s comment.

“Assuming she learns how to communicate adequately with you, she may make a fine voice for you during your reign.”

_You don’t know the half of it_ , Blackagar thought.

“However, both you and her need to start behaving like the Crown Prince and Princess that you are,” she continued, her voice taking on an even colder, harder edge. “Fighting with your cousin is most certainly not something a prince should do.”

Blackagar frowned, feeling scandalized. _It was Gorgon’s idea_ , he signed to her as best he could.

“Your cousin is a headstrong fool for egging you on. What if you made a mistake? What if you made a sound? You could have killed Gorgon and Medusalith.”

His frown only deepened. Even after everything he’d been through, her doubt of his control continued. _I didn’t make a sound._

Rynda stopped, turning to look at him fully. Her eyes were cold and icy; a far cry from the warmth he  remembered from his younger days. “You seem to forget just how dangerous you are, Blackagar. You could disintegrate the entirety of Attilan if you speak a sentence. It’s a wonder you made it this far in life without being…” She trailed off, but she didn’t have to say anything for him to know.

_Pacified_. It was a dreadful word to all Inhumans, and it hung over the heads of the children who had yet to undergo Terrigenesis. Being Pacified was considered by many to be worse than death, though it was claimed it helped Inhumans control powers that would otherwise be too much. Those few that had gazed upon a Pacified Inhuman reported that the procedure rendered them to a vegetative state, unable to move or speak but yet somewhat aware of what was taking place around them. Few, if any recovered from the procedure. It was a cruel fate for any Inhuman, and it cast a dark shadow over the Terigenesis process, the fear of having a power so great it would send them to the Pacifiers lingering in their hearts of every Inhuman. Blackagar had spent his entire life training to ensure he would not meet that terrible fate, and he did not plan on meeting it anytime in the future.

His mother’s words jointly angered and pained Blackagar, that she would think so little of his ability to control himself that he would be sent off to the Pacifiers. She saw him as a danger, and he wondered if she even saw him as her son.

In response to her, he ripped off his glove and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the mark left on his arm by the test she had mandated. It was not as angry a red as it had been when he first received it, but it was still stark against his paleness, and it would most likely result in a scar.

_Is this not enough proof for you?_ He glared at her accusingly. _I have been through enough pain to prove myself capable of control, but you don’t see it._

Rynda’s eyes flickered between the burn mark and his face, but she looked unmoved by his display of anger and frustration. She remained cold, not a single muscle moving in her face to denote concern or repentance.

“I expect you to start acting more like the Crown Prince you are,” she stated frostily. “See to it that you do.” And then she walked away further into the garden, leaving him standing there.

He stood there, watching her until she disappeared. Then he shoved his glove back on and stalked off in the opposite direction.

 

Even from afar, Medusa could tell the conversation with Rynda had not gone well. It was in the way he walked, his shoulders hunched and his steps heavy. As he got closer, she could practically see the thundercloud hanging over his head.

“Black,” she called out softly as he drew near.

He stopped just short of them, casting his eyes over them. The frown on his face relaxed slightly but did not disappear completely. After a long moment of silence, he turned on his heel and walked off in the direction of the palace.

“Blackagar,” she said, starting to go after him, but Gorgon placed a hand on her arm, stopping her.

“Let him go,” he murmured. “When he’s frustrated, it’s best to leave him be. He will come to us when he wants to.”

Medusa frowned, but she knew what Gorgon said was probably right. She let him go, and watched as he disappeared from her view.

 

Blackagar shut the door of his room, exhaling heavily. He was angry and hurt, and he could not let Medusa see him that way. He needed to calm himself.

He settled himself on the window seat and closed his eyes. Slowing his breathing, he attempted to remove all anger from his mind, but that was easier said than done. What his mother had said remained like an irremovable stone, weighing down upon his conscience. He did not understand what had happened, why she would think so little of him that she would expect him to be Pacified. He didn’t know where it had gone wrong, when she had turned from the caring, loving mother who supported through his many struggles to the cold, emotionless queen she was now. It had just…happened, and it disturbed him deeply.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost cried at the reunion scene in this week's Inhumans episode :')

Dinner was a more subdued affair. There was little talk until Agon spoke up.

“Where is Blackagar?” the king asked, gesturing to the empty seat in between Medusa and Gorgon.

Medusa stabbed moodily at her food, and Karnak said, “He did not feel like eating tonight, Uncle.”

Agon frowned but accepted his answer. “Hm. Very well.”

The rest of dinner passed in silence, with only the occasional word between Agon and Rynda. Medusa was so infuriated she could hardly stand to look at the queen. She didn’t know what Rynda had said to Blackagar, but she knew whatever it was had upset him to the point of seeking isolation, and that angered her. Her hair twitched in agitation, but she did her best to keep it still. She should have expected no less, considering how Rynda had acted in previous conversations.

When dinner was over and everyone departed the table, Medusa stretched out a strand of hair and grabbed up two rolls from the table before the servants came to clear it away. Blackagar would need to eat.

 

It was almost time for her to sleep, and Black Bolt had still not shown himself. A disheartened sigh left her as she picked up the comb from her vanity. It looked like she would be alone that night.

A frown on her lips, she crossed the room, settling on her bed. She settled her hair in her lap and began to draw the comb through it in slow, deliberate strokes, but her mind remained far from her task, lingering on Blackagar.

She was almost done when a light knock broke the silence. Startled, she whipped around, only to be immediately relieved as she saw it was Blackagar who stood in her doorway.

“Black,” she breathed, the comb falling from her hands. She was across the room in a second, and before she knew what she was doing, she had wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a fierce hug.

Blackagar froze in both body and mind. She was hugging him. He could count on one hand how many times he had been hugged before in his life, and all of them had been his parents, not someone like her. Red tendrils snaked around his middle, as if her very hair was hugging him as well, and all he could do was stand there awkwardly, unsure if he should move his hands or not.

Before he could decide, she had drawn away, and was looking up at him searchingly.

“I’m glad you came,” she said. “I was worried.”

Blackagar dipped his head, feeling a pang of guilt.

“What did she say to you?” He frowned deeply, and that was enough of an answer for her. “Whatever she told you, she shouldn’t have.”

Blackagar nodded, his frown remaining.

“Oh!” She spun around suddenly, her hair swinging in a wide arc with the movement. “I managed to get these for you.” She open the draw to her desk and pulled forth the rolls taken from the dinner table. “I thought you would get hungry.”

Blackagar’s stomach pinched at the sight of food, having not realized just how hungry he was after hours without eating. He accepted the rolls gratefully, bowing his head to her.

“Come and sit,” she said, returning to her position on the bed.

Blackagar did so, biting into one of the rolls. Even though they had long since gone cold, they were still delicious, and he started to truly eat with less grace than he could have, but he didn’t care.

Medusa picked up her comb and began to comb again, waving away Blackagar’s offered hand. “Don’t worry about my hair tonight. Relax and eat.”

Blackagar was mildly disappointed, but also grateful for the chance to finish eating.

As they sat in silence, a notion popped into Medusa’s head, and she couldn’t help a smile. “I have an idea, Black.”

He tilted his head. _What is it?_

She turned so that she was facing him halfway. “I know you’re stressed, so I was thinking tomorrow night we might go out and sit on the shore and look at the stars.”

Blackagar paused, considering it before frowning.

“Why not?” Medusa asked. “I couldn’t think of anything more relaxing.”

He squared his shoulders, holding out his fist as if he held a spear.

“Guards?”

Nod.

She snorted, shaking her head. “You are the Crown Prince. The guards can’t stop you from doing anything.”

Blackagar tilted his head. He had never considered how much sway he held as the Crown Prince before. After a moment longer, he gave her a single nod, his lips curling into a smile.

She smiled back. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

_As long as I’m with you, I don’t think I will._

 

The next day seemed to creep by at a snail’s pace for Blackagar. Medusa had told him everything she could about the shore and the stars, which served to heighten his anticipation.

The hour finally came. It was dark out, and it was nearly time for him to turn in, but he remained awake, pacing his room in his bodysuit.

A soft knock on his door alerted him, and he hurried to open it, knowing she would be waiting on the other side.

A mischievous glint was in her eyes, a smile on her lips. “Are you ready to go?” He nodded and she smiled wider. “Then let’s go.”

They walked through the halls calmly but quietly. They passed the occasional servant, but none questioned them. If anything, they would dip a hasty bow or curtsy and scurry on their way.

As Blackagar observed this, he found himself wondering if their eagerness to be on their way was merely out of respect for the royal pair, or if it was a fear of him and his power. Perhaps both.

No one bothered them until they reached the doors of the palace, where a sentry was dozing off as they approached.

“Your Majesties!” exclaimed the sentry, straightening his shoulders and blinking away the sleep that had almost overtaken him. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

“We wish to go outside,” Medusa said, tilting her chin up slightly in an authoritative gesture.

The sentry shifted his feet, his eyes darting between the two of them. “Pardon me for saying, but I don’t know if that’s a very good idea, my lady.”

Medusa was unfazed. She raised her chin a little higher. “I think it would be best for you to not question your future king and queen.”

The sentry paused, clearly torn, but after seeing the glint in Medusa’s eyes, he relented. “Of course. I offer my humblest apologies to you, my lady.”

Medusa nodded curtly and swept on as he opened the door for them. Blackagar followed, mildly impressed.

Once the door was shut behind them and they were sufficiently out of earshot, Medusa’s air of regality crumbled into a bashful grin. “I think I scared him a little too much.”

Blackagar smiled and nodded, offering her his arm. She accepted, and they strode through the shadowed palace grounds together.

Medusa led the way to the shores. “I made sure to know how to get there if I ever wanted to go,” she explained.

They walked a pathway of white stone that seemed to glow in the moonlight. Blackagar found himself staring at Medusa out of the corner of his eye, for she seemed to glow as well. Her skin was as white as the stone they walked on, her hair a faded copper hue etched with silver strands of moonlight. She was an image of ethereal beauty even in the dark of night.

“We’re almost there,” she said, startling him slightly as she broke the silence.

They walked through a tall archway, going up a small staircase. As they came to the top of the stairs, Blackagar’s eyes widened. There was a gentle slope dotted with tall grasses, and beyond that was the shore, the sands and rocks turned silver. The moon hung over the water in a star-studded sky, a trail of liquid silver running across the water towards them. Small waves lapped at the sand and retreated in their endless dance, leaving behind the wet sand glistening like the stars come to earth.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Medusa murmured.

Blackagar remembered to nod. If he could speak, he would’ve been at loss for words.

“Come on.” She tugged gently on his arm. “There’s no fun in just staring at it. You have to experience it.”

Blackagar nodded again, following her down the hill. Halfway down, she stopped and slipped her shoes off, relishing the feeling of the cool sand shifting between her toes.

“Ah, that feels wonderful. Have you ever felt sand, Black?”

He shook his head. The shifting terrain under his feet was totally foreign, and he found himself struggling to keep his balance.

She laughed softly and guided him down to firmer sands. “You should feel it.”

Blackagar considered it, inspecting the soft whiteness he stood on. Behind them, their footprints left a trail up the hill, Medusa’s small, sure steps and his larger, unsure ones. He peeled off his gloves slowly, and handed them off to Medusa when she offered to take them. He knelt down in the sand and cupped his hands, taking up a handful and allowing it to spill through his fingers. It was an odd sensation, and it astounded him that millions of grains of sediment could create such a soft landscape.

Medusa watched him. She had never had the chance to truly see his hands before. Large and far paler than her own, they cupped the sand tentatively. She realized that those hands had not experienced the sensations other hands had. Even the feeling of sand would be foreign.

Blackagar looked up at her as the last grains slipped from his hands, his teeth flashing in a smile. He stood up, holding out his hand for his gloves, but Medusa withheld them from him.

“No,” she said quietly. “Tonight you feel the world as it is.”

They walked to the rocks near the sea and sat upon them. Blackagar’s hands twitched as he felt the rough, uneven textures beneath his fingertips, hard and cool.

“They are beautiful.”

Blackagar looked away from the rock to see Medusa staring upwards, a slight smile on her lips. He too looked up, gazing upon the stars woven in intricate patterns across the dark tapestry of the sky.

“Sometimes it’s hard to think that there are countless worlds beyond our own,” she continued. “But when you look up and see a sky like that, it’s easier to see.”

Blackagar nodded his understanding.

“Without one of those worlds, we wouldn’t be sitting here. A strange thought, isn’t it?”

He nodded again. Somewhere up there, beyond the twinkling lights and the luminous moon was the world of the Kree. He wondered if they knew what had become of the humans they had experimented on, if they knew how powerful their race had become in the wake of their abandonment.

For a while all was quiet. The waves gently lapped against the shore with the relaxing, repetitive _swoosh_. Medusa had been right, Blackagar realized. On the peaceful shore, all thoughts of kingship and the disapproval of his mother were like a distant nightmare, and he found himself wishing they could stay forever, just him and Medusa.

Medusa finally broke the stillness with a wistful sigh. “Sometimes I wish I could fly, so I could get closer to the stars.” She laughed quietly. “A silly notion, but a girl can dream.”

Blackagar tilted his head, processing her words. An idea sprung into his head, and after a moment of debate he decided what he should do.

Medusa looked over as he tapped her on the shoulder. “What?”

In answer, he slid from the rock onto the sand.

She frowned. “What are you doing?”

He turned back around so he was facing her. He planted his feet firmly into the sand, and after a moment his apparatus lit up with a blue light. Medusa watched in astonishment as his feet lifted off the ground. He wobbled in the air momentarily, but steadied himself as he found his equilibrium.

Medusa was sure her jaw dropped to the floor. “You…you can fly?” she exclaimed, finally finding her words.

Blackagar nodded, the mischievous smile on his face telling her he was enjoying her shock.

She slid off the rock, taking a step towards him. “Why didn’t you tell me you could fly?”

He tilted his head. _I couldn’t._

“Right,” she mumbled. “Well you could have at least shown me!”

He shrugged, allowing his feet to touch the ground.

“So that’s how you could jump so high when you were fighting Gorgon,” she said. “You flew.”

He nodded. Then he pointed at her, then to himself, then to the sky.

“What?”

He repeated the action, and it took her several moments to realize what he meant.

“You want to take me closer to the stars?”

He smiled, nodding.

She laughed nervously, both embarrassed and apprehensive about the idea. “I don’t know about that. A lady should keep her feet on the ground.”

He gave her a skeptical look.

“What if you drop me?”

He smiled and shook his head. He reached out and touched her shoulder, his skin meeting hers. She felt her skin prickle, not only out of sensation but with an energy that she had no doubt came from him.

_Trust me_ , his eyes said.

“Alright,” she relented. “But if you even joke about dropping me…” She trailed off, leaving the threat empty for his own imagination.

Blackagar smiled again and dipped his head. _As you say, my lady_. His hand then left her shoulder, sliding down to her middle to pull her closer to him. She blushed fiercely when her body came in contact with his, feeling the muscles of his chest ripple with his movement. The air around him seemed charged, crackling with energy, and made the hairs on her arms and the back of her arms rise.

Hesitantly, she slid her arms around his neck. She kept her head low so he could not see her embarrassment, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

Blackagar tightened his grip around her waist, silken threads of hair dancing around his fingers. The softness was mesmerizing, and he almost didn’t notice when she laid her head against his shoulder. She was slender and soft, he realized as he held her, and a feeling of both protection and affection washed over him. Just for a moment, the memories of that terrible dream of lust surfaced in his mind, but he pushed them away. He would not let it ruin this precious moment.

She wanted to fly and see the stars, so he would do that for her.

He tightened his grip a little more. _Are you ready?_

“Go slowly,” she said.

He nodded as his apparatus lit up once again. The air charged around them, and slowly they began to ascend into the air, leaving the shore behind.

Blackagar smiled to himself as they rose, the air cool against his face. He could feel Medusa’s hair wrapping around his shoulders, torso, and arms, gripping tightly like a multitude of extra hands. He didn’t blame her. Even with the power of flight, heights could be daunting. He had never truly had the chance to use his powers of flight before, only gliding around his chambers out of boredom. He would have never imagined his first true flight would be like this, much less with someone like Medusa.

Medusa clung on to Blackagar all she was worth, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. Her feet dangled out in the open air, a nerve wracking sensation, but Blackagar supported her without wavering, as if she weighed nothing to him.

One time she chanced to open her eyes. When she saw how far down Attilan was, she let out an undignified squeak and tightened her grip on him even further. She felt Blackagar’s body shiver in silent laughter, and she scowled into his shoulder.

“Shame on you. You don’t laugh at a princess,” she scolded.

He squeezed her softly in response.

It seemed like an eternity—or perhaps only a few seconds—before the sensation of ascending stopped.

“Is it safe to open my eyes?” she asked. She felt him nod, and slowly she opened her eyes, daring to peer downwards. She gasped, but not out of fear.

Attilan was hidden from them; even though Medusa knew they were high up, it seemed less intimidating now that she could no longer see the Inhuman city. At some point, they had broken through a barrier of clouds, and were now high above them. Below them spread a silver sea with waves made of the cottony wisps of moonlit cloud. Above them stretched the stars and the moon, the dark a sharp contrast the light of the clouds.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her voice hushed with awe. She turned her head to see Blackagar’s expression, and she saw that he looked as amazed as she felt. “This is your first time doing this as well, isn’t it?”

He looked at her, his eyes seeming to glow in the light of the energy crackling from his apparatus. It is.

“I…I would like to get closer to the clouds, if we could.” She realized it should have been colder at the altitude they were hovering, but the energy coming from Blackagar kept them in a bubble of warmth.

Blackagar nodded his agreement to her request and started to move again. Medusa’s heart almost stopped when they tilted forwards, turning her back to the ground, but Blackagar grasped her tightly as if he knew her fear. Then he aimed downwards, and as easily as a leaf on the breeze he plunged them down into the clouds with a rush of air.

Everything became shades of gray and silver moonbeams. Medusa let out a laugh of wonderment as the cool vapors touched her face. Blackagar’s light shone against the white, tinging the walls around them blue.

There was a sudden twist and then they were above the clouds again. Medusa found herself looking down at the silver scape as it passed by. Blackagar coasted on his back, his face upturned to the stars, and she practically lay atop him, her chin resting against his shoulder.

He smiled up at the sky, enjoying the feel of the air on his face and Medusa’s warmth on his middle. The dream he had experienced what seemed like an eternity ago, the dream of flying high over Attilan free from the constraints of a muzzle and his chambers was now a reality. The reality was even better than his dream, for he held Medusa in his arms.

“This is amazing,” Medusa whispered. “I never thought I’d see something like this.” She was beginning to adjust to being in the air, or at least she thought she was until Blackagar suddenly tilted backwards, sending them spiraling back down towards the clouds. A surprised shriek left her mouth at the sudden descent, and she saw his lips curl into a mischievous smirk.

“It’s not funny!” she griped as they straightened out again. She did her best to sound serious, but her laughter at his antics was ill-concealed.

He turned, skimming through a crevice in the clouds. Walls of silver stretched up around them, and Medusa laughed in wonderment. He smiled; she sounded as carefree as the day Gorgon had pushed her into the water.

After several more complex twists and turns to test his prowess, he rose up again and evened out, slowing his speed to a lazy drift and letting them coast across the sky.

There was nothing said or conveyed for a while. Both of them were still and content, Blackagar with his eyes on the stars and Medusa with her eyes on the clouds. They were enraptured in awe and wonderment at the beauty of the skyscape, and words were not needed as they drank it in.

Finally, Medusa sighed, her breath warm against his cheek. “We’ll have to go back soon.”

Blackagar’s lips twitched downwards into a frown.

“I know,” she agreed, “but we have to sleep sometime.”

Blackagar was loathe to break the aura of comfortable intimacy, but he knew she was right. Lack of sleep would do him no good. He tilted forwards so they were upright, and began to descend down to earth slowly.

Medusa closed her eyes, not wishing to see the dizzying drop, and before she knew it her feet were gentle pressing against the soft sand. She opened her eyes, relieved to be back on solid ground. It took her a moment to realize she was still holding on to Blackagar and let go, her body becoming cold as she departed from his warmth.

“That was one of the most amazing experiences of my life,” she told him. “I can’t thank you enough.”

The light died from his apparatus, casting a shadow over his face, but she could still see him smile.

They walked back to the palace at a leisurely pace, wanting to stretch the moment for as long as possible.

“If only Crystal could have seen us,” Medusa breathed. “She wouldn’t know what to think.”

Blackagar smiled, at her words. He too marveled at the sights he’d seen. It was a new and wonderful experience for the both of them.

The sentry let them in, standing to attention at the sight of the royals.  They passed quietly through the dimmed halls, finally coming to the living quarters. They stopped in front of Medusa’s door, and she turned to face him.

“Thank you, Black,” she said with as much sincerity as she could convey in her tone. “I had fun tonight, and I hope you did too. I hope it got your mind off of…other things.”

He nodded. _It did._

“Here. You can have these back.” She held out his gloves to him. He took them, having forgotten about their very existence, but he made no move to put them back on.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” she said. “I hope we can do it again sometime soon.”

_I do to._

On a sudden impulse, Medusa stretched up on her toes, leaning forward and planting a chaste peck on his uncovered cheek. Startled by her own actions, she froze.

Blackagar was just as frozen as she. His cheek tingled where her lips had touched for a small eternity. He had never experienced it in his memory, but he knew what it was: a kiss, one of the utmost displays of affection one could give another. It was as if he were paralyzed, as if his brain had ceased to function altogether. The only thing he could comprehend was the single thought running through his head like a mantra: _she kissed me._

“I shouldn’t have done that,” she said, bowing her head in shame. “It was far too forward of me. Please forgive me.”

That set his mind back to work. He faltered for a moment as he considered what his best course of action, then did what he thought was best. He bent down and returned the kiss on her cheek.

A faint gasp left Medusa’s mouth and her hand flew up to touch the spot where his lips had been. They were warm and soft, attributes she had never before considered. She met his eyes hesitantly, and he grinned crookedly, his cheeks taking on a pink tinge. For the first time she saw not a prince full of composure and royal dignity, but a young man as awkward and hesitant as she.

“G-good night, Black Bolt,” she said, smiling shyly.

He bowed. _Good night, Medusa._

She entered her room and shut the door behind her, leaning against the surface and taking a deep, steadying breath. Only then did she realize how fast her heart was racing and how hot her skin felt, but for some reason she couldn’t rid herself of her smile.

Blackagar stared out Medusa’s door for a moment longer after she had shut it before turning slowly and walking in the direction of his room. He didn’t remember walking to his room; the next thing he knew he was standing in front of his bed, staring at the bedsheets meticulously arranged by the maid servants. His mind and heart were full of Medusa.

_She cares for me._

He couldn’t remember a time he felt happier.


	20. Chapter 20

That night and the kiss that followed were not discussed between the two of them in the days following. There was no need to, for the events spoke for themselves.

Their relationship had changed; the remaining barrier of awkwardness had been torn down. Medusa no longer asked to have her hair combed; she would come wordlessly and he would take the comb and begin. He started to forego his gloves, combing with bare hands in the silken strands, and Medusa understood his want, his need for touch, so she didn’t mind.

They were comfortable with each other, becoming content with their new affection.

Then one day, Agon summoned them.

“What do you suppose he wants to speak with us about?” Medusa asked, exiting her room into the hallway where Blackagar stood.

Blackagar shrugged. _I’m not sure._

“I hope he didn’t find out about…you know.” She gave him a meaningful look, a smile tugging at her lips.

He shook his head. _I don’t think so._

“I hope not,” she murmured, primping the last bit of hair into place.

Blackagar offered her his arm which she gladly accepted, and they went off together.

Agon awaited them alone in the meeting room. When the two of them entered, he turned to them, a fond smile appearing on his face. “Ah, it is good to see the both of you.”

Medusa curtsied and Blackagar bowed in response.

“Please sit,” he said gesturing to the empty chairs that surrounded the meeting table.

They did as he bid silently, sharing an expectant glance.

“I know you are wondering why I have called you here today,” said Agon, taking a seat across from them. “Based on what I have observed and what you yourselves have said, am I correct to believe you are both bonding and becoming closer?”

Both nodded.

“Excellent. Now on to the matter at hand.” Agon folded his hands on the table in front of him. “Next week will be the first of biannual Christenings, and I can think of no better time to introduce the heirs of Attilan to the common people.”

Medusa instinctively glanced at Blackagar, and his eyes were wide and alarmed. “The Christenings, Your Majesty?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice even. “That is such a momentous occasion, and I am not sure if either of us are—”

Agon waved away her doubts with a hand. “Do not be so unsure of yourself, my dear. I know it may seem like a daunting event, especially for a first appearance, but it is truly not as bad as you may presume.”

Medusa was about to respond, but Blackagar cut her off before she could. His hands flew in a flurry of motions so fast and complex she couldn’t decipher most of them as he communicated with his father, but she knew when his fingers went up to his lips that he was concerned over his voice.

“You worry too much, my son,” said Agon when his hands stilled. “Every Inhuman knows how some powers are more…limiting than others. Once they meet you, they will see that there is nothing to fear, not that there was anything in the first place.”

Blackagar looked unsatisfied but he nodded anyway, letting his hands fall back into his lap.

Agon turned his attention back to the both of them. “I would not do this if I did not think you were both ready for it.”

Medusa dipped her head, restraining the anxious tremble of her hair. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

 

Blackagar’s fingers twitched as he paced his room, betraying his anxiety.

“It won’t be as bad as you think it will be,” Medusa said, though she could not muster enough courage to make her words sound convincing. The thought of facing thousands of people for the first time, appearing to them as the rulers to come made her every bit as anxious as he.

He turned to face her. _This will be formality, and you cannot read my words quickly. There will be no time for long pauses to translate._

“I try my best!” Medusa exclaimed, her temper flaring at his words and her hair with it.

Blackagar held up his hands in a placating gesture. _I am sorry. I meant to say that there will be no room for mistakes in front of all the people._

Medusa’s hair deflated. “Oh. You’re right.” She sighed, feeling ashamed for jumping to conclusions. “Well, we can practice.”

Blackagar considered it for a moment before nodding. _Yes. Let us practice._

 

“So what is it we are doing?” Gorgon asked, clomping up to stand beside Karnak and Triton.

“We need to practice for the Christening next week,” Medusa said. “We need to work on formality as well as my understanding of his signs.”

Gorgon nodded, satisfied with this explanation. “Alright. What do you want us to do?”

“You are the people who have come to the Christening,” she said, pointing to the trio. “Black Bolt and I,” she gestured to the two of them, “are simply the Crown Prince of Attilan and his betrothed.” As the last word left her lips she realized just how little she had thought about their betrothal over the past few days, and it was a good thing, she supposed.

“So…we act like mothers holding their screaming bundles of irritation?”

“Yes,” said Medusa. “And don’t forget, we were all…” she glanced Blackagar’s way, “er, most of us were those screaming bundles of irritation once.” She smirked at Gorgon. “You still are, dear cousin.”

Gorgon shot a scowl her way, but before he could respond Blackagar signaled for them to begin. Grumbling something under his breath, the hoofed Inhuman stepped forward, doing a poor and wobbly imitation of a curtsy.

“Your Majesties,” he said in a shrill pitch, obviously an attempt at sounding female.

Medusa snorted, struggling to keep her composure as she shot a glance towards Blackagar. He signed to Gorgon, and it took her a few moments to process each sign and put them into words.

“Prince Blackagar says he is glad of your presence,” she said in her best regal tones, returning her gaze to Gorgon.

Gorgon shrugged. “I see no problems with your translation and delivery.”

“I can’t spend forever just staring at him and trying to translate his signs,” she argued. “It has to be swift.”

“If you say so,” he grumbled.

“Yes, I do say so.”

Blackagar smirked.

So they practiced. They repeated the same action over and over again, Blackagar signing and Medusa translating for him. Every now and then he would switch up his signs, giving Medusa an opportunity to learn more signs.

Even when their cousins were not with them, they found ways to practice. Medusa would bring her book at night as she always did, and after Blackagar had combed her hair he would take the book. He would start signing words as he read, and it was up to her to read them back to him.

She was shaky at first, the swiftness of his hands and the complexity of his signs making her go frustratingly slow. But they practiced every free moment they had, and she became better at interpreting his signs, and him as a whole it seemed. Eventually she only had to glance at him to know his signs. The guesswork of their relationship had decreased drastically over the course of a week of intensive practice.

The next thing they knew, it was the night before the Christening, and they sat together in Blackagar’s room.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Medusa asked with a sigh.

He frowned. _Not really._

“Neither am I.” She sighed again. They hadn’t had much of a chance to just _talk_ since the night on the beach. Every moment was filled with practicing signs. Their presentation to the people of Attilan had to be perfect.

But now there was a moment of respite. They had done all they could, for tomorrow was the Christening.

Memories of the beach surfaced as she gazed at him. She remembered the feeling of solid, warm muscle pressed against her torso and a strong arm around her waist. She could still feel the night air on her skin and the soft touch of his lips on her flushed cheek.

She was embarrassed to find herself desiring that again. Not to fly, but to be near to him, to be in that intimate moment of openness. Such thoughts were considered indecent, she assumed, but should a princess not desire her prince?

Blackagar tilted his head. _What is it?_

Medusa blinked, realizing she was staring. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking.”

_About what?_

“Just…” She searched for something that wasn’t thoughts about desiring to be near him. “I was just thinking about how tomorrow, we will truly be the future of Attilan.” She shrugged. “I mean, we have been, but it hasn’t been solidified by the people. Tomorrow, however…” She trailed off.

Blackagar gave her a knowing look. In a bold move, he reached out and took her hand, enfolding it in the palms of his own larger ones. His gloves were gone, and the warmth of his skin seeped into hers.

 _We will do well_ , the gesture said, and he brushed a thumb across her knuckles.

Medusa’s heart jumped a little, but it was far less awkward than it would have been a week ago. “I can’t help but be nervous.”

_I am too._

Reluctantly, she withdrew her hand from his. “I know it’s early, but I have to get to bed. You should, too. It’s a big day tomorrow.” She stood, and he did to. Unexpectedly, he reached out and touched her arms, just below her shoulders.

“What is it?” she asked, genuinely confused.

 _I am glad you are my betrothed, Medusa_. He knew she did not know what the gesture meant, so he merely smiled and let his hands drop.

She gave him an odd look, her skin tingling where he had touched. “Alright…”

_Good night._

“Good night.” Despite his odd gesture, she left with a smile.


	21. Chapter 21

Too soon, it was the day of the Christening. Maidservants came bustling in at an unholy hour, rousing Medusa from a gloriously deep sleep. Despite her protests, they insisted on combing her hair for her, and she had to bear the painful tugging and pulling as three of them set about removing the snarls from the red mass.

Finally when her hair was done, she was fitted into a dress, though the maidservants actually listened when she requested purple. They decided in a lavender off-the-shoulder, so long it dragged on the floor. Golden thread was sewn into the sleeves, hem, waistline and neckline, making every move shimmer. Medusa like it; it was far less constricting than the dress she had worn to Blackagar’s first appearance.

Red lipstick and a large amount of eyeshadow were applied to her face, and a sparkling gem that matched the color of her eyes. She faced herself in the mirror, and smiled at what she saw.

“You truly do look like a princess, my lady,” said Marista, one of her maidservants.

“I think so too.” She liked what they had done to her this time. At Blackagar’s presentation, they were clearly over accentuating her appearance and her body, perhaps to make her more appealing in her “first appearance” to the Crown Prince, but now that she had met him they toned it down considerably.

A few moments later, another maidservant stuck her head in the door. “The Crown Prince awaits you, Lady Medusalith.”

She grinned to herself, rising from the vanity. Slipping her feet into her shoes, she hurried out the door. Blackagar, clad in his usual bodysuit, greeted her with a smile. She smiled back, only just in time remembering her formalities amidst the watchful eyes of the servants.

“Prince Blackagar,” said she, curtsying low.

 _Lady Medusalith_. He bowed, drinking in her appearance at the same time. Every time he saw her dressed for an occasion, her beauty never ceased to stun him.

“Your Majesties,” said Marista, “the ceremony will begin shortly.”

Blackagar nodded and extended his hand—woefully gloved due to the occasion—and Medusa took. They walked hand in hand as they followed Marista towards the Throne Room.

Agon, Rynda, and Maximus already stood waiting in a small antechamber off the side of the Throne Room. The buzz of conversation and the wails and babbles of small children could be heard through the door, and it set both their hearts pounding. Blackagar squeezed Medusa’s hand, a solid reminder of how far they had come and the affection that bloomed between them.

As they approached, Agon’s face broke into a grin. “You look every inch the queen you will one day be, dear lady,” he told Medusa.

She curtsied. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Agon turned to Blackagar, his chest swelling with pride as he regarded his son. “I am so proud of you, Blackagar. I hope you realize that.”

He nodded, a smile on his lips.

Medusa glanced at Rynda from in between her hair. The queen made no move to compliment her son, much less even speak to him. She remained as cold and still as ever, and Maximus stood next to her looking disinterested in whatever Agon was saying to Blackagar.

“It is time we must go out,” said Agon at last, stepping back from the two of them. “We will call Maximus first, then the two of you.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Medusa answered for the both of them.

Agon took Rynda’s hand and they walked out the door. Immediately the murmuring of the people ceased as the king and queen stepped before them.

“Lady Medusalith,” said Maximus, breaking the awkward silence. “You are a vision.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she murmured, curtsying lightly. “You befit the nobility of a prince.”

“Thank you.” Maximus gave her an appraising look with his strange, glittering eyes.

Before more could be said, Maximus was called by Agon’s voice out in the Throne Room. “…but of course no ceremony is complete without Prince Maximus.”

Maximus straightened the collar of his royal garb. With a final curt nod in their direction, he strode out to meet his parents.

Medusa turned her head to look at Blackagar. “This is it. This is when we are no longer just Medusalith and Blackagar. The people will see us as their future rulers.”

 _And they will fear me_ , signed Blackagar.

“They might,” said Medusa, touching his arm with her hair. “But they do not know you as I do. Not yet. They do not know your softness, your compassion, your control.”

Blackagar nodded hesitantly. There was no doubt in his mind the great queen she would be.

“…but today there are two members of the Royal Family I wish to introduce to you for the first time.” Agon’s voice drifted to them. “The heirs to the throne of Attilan and your future king and queen.”

The people murmured with anticipation, and Medusa gripped Blackagar’s hand tightly.

“I present to you, Crown Prince Blackagar Boltagon and his betrothed, Lady Medusalith Amaquelin!”

They stepped out together.

A sea of expectant faces of all shapes, sizes, and colors greeted them. Murmurs from the adults mingled with shushes directed towards the loud, curious questions from children. Newborns babbled and squealed, but all eyes were trained on them.

Blackagar held Medusa’s hand as they ascended the dais together, coming to stand to the left of the king and queen. They both studied the people—their people—but no one seemed to be fearful. Just surprised, observant, as they had every right to be.

A movement off to the side caught her eye. She looked over and saw none other than her little sister waving wildly to catch her attention, seated on Quelin’s shoulders with her mother next to them. She bit back a tremendous grin and nodded in acknowledgment. Crystal knew that she had been seen and bobbed up and down in excitement.

Blackagar tilted his head, noticing Medusa’s attention was diverted. He followed her line of sight to the trio of Inhumans in the corner, all smiles and happiness. He smiled to himself. So that was her family.

He squeezed Medusa’s hand in reminder to begin speaking. She cleared her throat and spoke, reluctantly diverting her attention to the whole of the crowd. “Crown Prince Blackagar would like to speak with you.” She winced internally at the terminology but it was ignored.

Blackagar drew his hand from hers and began to sign.

“I know this is the first time you have seen me,” Medusa translated. “I know I have not been like past Crown Princes, always in the eye of the people, but that does not change the love I have for Attilan and its inhabitants. I have no voice, which some may view as weakness, but my queen is my voice and she speaks better for me than I think I ever could if I had a voice of my own.” She flushed at the unexpected compliment in his signs but continued to translate.

“This is the first time you have seen me, but it is also the first time I have seen you. I ask you to be fair with your judgements and take me and my betrothed as we are. That being said, I am happy to finally see all of you, and I hope you take kindly to me tenure as your king and advocate for your wellbeing.”

His hands stilled, and moments later her voice ceased. For a long moment there was only silence, then the hall erupted into thunderous applause.

Blackagar blinked, taken aback by the reception. He glanced at Medusa, who grinned back at him.

“Let the Christening begin!” Agon announced.

All the mothers with their newborns and their families lined up to the right of the dais, while those who had come to spectate remained in the middle of the room. One by one, each family walked across the dais, presenting their child to the king and queen, and then to the future rulers.

The first mother that approached Blackagar looked apprehensive, and Medusa gave her the best we-know-what-we’re-doing smile. Finally she handed her child over and Blackagar took the squirming bundle, awkward and cautious as if he feared the child was made of fragile glass. Once the child was safely in his arms, he relaxed, a smile of adoration appearing on his face.

“Crown Prince Blackagar wishes a happy life for your child,” Medusa told the mother through a smile of her own, not needing signs to translate his thoughts.

After that, things went smoothly. Each family would come and offer their child to Blackagar, and Medusa would offer words of blessing. Some families were large extended, with aunts and uncles and cousins and first cousins, and some were small, consisting of a mother, a father, and the occasional sibling. However, all regarded Blackagar and Medusa with curiosity and wonderment.

“Can you weawwy not talk?” one small sibling asked of Blackagar, regarding him with huge eyes.

“Hush!” said the mother with a sharp glare towards the child, but fell silent when Blackagar raised a hand. He smiled and shook his head at the child, his hands moving with signs.

“Though not every gift is convenient, it is what the Terrigen Mists chooses, and it is meant for the Inhuman who receives it,” Medusa translated.

The family moved on.

Throughout it all, Medusa kept an eye on her family. They looked like they were about to explode with pride and happiness, and she couldn’t wait for the ceremony to be over so she could speak with them.

Blackagar was confident. The people did not look upon him with fear; they saw him as Inhuman just like them. His voice was to be feared, but his control was not doubted. All his apprehensions about this moment he had carried with him for years were gone.

Another large family came by, the mother bearing twin children in her arms. Blackagar smiled at the wide-eyed children and Medusa translated his signed blessings.

As the family moved on, an odd feeling washed over Blackagar. It suddenly felt as if his body were not his own, being controlled by some other entity.

Another family passed in front of him, but he found he could not make his hands move. The Inhumans looked at him expectantly, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything.

“Blackagar?” Medusa’s voice broke through the strange haze. “Blackagar, are you alright?”

A gentle hand touched his shoulder—hers, obviously—but he felt he couldn’t turn his head to her, much less sign to her.

Then suddenly his voice was rising in his throat. He tried to force it down, but he couldn’t. He was fighting, but it seemed that some power greater than he was forcing his voice to come forth.

“Blackagar?”

With all his might, he turned his head to look at Medusa. She was looking at him, her beautiful eyes so full of concern and care for him…

His voice was rising, and he was unable to stop it. Using all his might, he pushed Medusa, sending her tumbling from the dais. He did not have time to see what became of her, for he had to unleash his voice somewhere, somewhere where the many people in the room would be safe. He saw the stained glass window behind the dais, and he knew it was his only option. He let it a loud grunt between gritted teeth, and the glass shattered into a million pieces, the sound of breaking mingling with the screams.


	22. Chapter 22

Medusa came awake slowly. The first thing she was aware of was the throbbing pain on her right temple. She let out a soft groan, reaching up to touch the hurting area.

“She’s coming awake!” a vaguely familiar voice said, high-pitched with excitement.

A weight landed on top of her abdomen, and her breath left her. Her eyes popped open, and she found herself staring into bright blue eyes.

“Crystal?” she asked weakly.

“Medusa!” Her sister lunged forward, her knee digging into Medusa’s stomach as she wrapped her arms around her neck.

Medusa laughed weakly, squinting as the harsh light stabbed at her eyes. Slowly, she took in the forms that loomed around her bed. Her parents, their faces drawn with concern, were off to her right. The three heads that could only be her cousins were off to her left.

“Medusa!” came Gorgon’s voice. “Are you alright? Quick, how many toes do I have?”

“None,” she growled, using her hair to push herself up into a more comfortable position while maintaining her hold on Crystal. “What happened?”

“You hit your head when the Crown Prince pushed you,” said her mother. “After you were already unconscious, a piece of glass cut you.”

Medusa saw now that she was in the infirmary, the sharp smell of sterilization permeating the air. She shifted her hair, feeling the hurt on her temple that she now knew was a cut. The words Crown Prince stirred a familiarity in her. She sat up suddenly as she realized, nearly dumping Crystal off of her.

“Black Bolt!” she gasped. “Where’s Black Bolt?”

“Who?” Quelin asked.

“He…” Karnak paused. “He has returned to his chambers.”

The words made her feel sick to her stomach. Blackagar had returned—likely unwillingly—to the world of isolation. To go back after experiencing the outside world was agony, and it was unfair.

“What are you doing?” Gorgon asked as Medusa began to get out of bed.

“I’m going to see him,” she said.

Ambur placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, stopping her. “You can’t. It’s dangerous.”

Medusa met her mother’s eyes. “No, he’s not. He’s the one of the most gentle people I’ve ever met.”

“But he made a noise,” said Crystal at her side, her voice now hushed. “He shattered the big window.”

Medusa shook her head. “He would not just _do_ that. He has control. I’ve spent enough time with him to know that he’s not dangerous.”

“I want to believe you,” said Ambur, “but I don’t want to risk losing my daughter to an accidental word.”

Medusa bit her lip. Blackagar didn’t make a sound without cause. Her mind went back to the dais in the middle of the ceremony. She had waited for him to begin signing to the next family that came along, but he never had. She had looked at him, and he seemed very still and straight, his eyes oddly glassy. She had asked him what was wrong and he had slowly looked at her, his face becoming full of panic. She remembered him shoving her hard enough for her to tumble off the dais, her head hitting the floor hard. The last thing she remembered was the sound of a soft grunt and the shattering of glass.

It wasn’t a mistake. He wouldn’t just lose control for no reason.

“Rest, Medusa,” Quelin told her. “You took a hard hit to your head and a deep cut. You can think about the Crown Prince later.”

 _Think about_. Not _go see him_. She looked at her parents, and she could tell they were adamant about not letting her visit him. They were convinced he was dangerous and out of control.

She wanted to protest, but she knew it would do no good. Slowly, she laid back on her pillow. Her heart ached oddly; Blackagar was likely all alone in his old chambers, suffering from the guilt of something that likely wasn’t his fault. She found herself wishing he were here at her bedside, regardless of a small grunt.

It wasn’t his fault. There had to be something else at work.

Gorgon cleared his throat. “We’ll leave you to get some rest, Medusa.”

All three of her cousins cast her sympathetic glances as they filed out of the room quietly.

“Come, Crystal,” Ambur said quietly. “You can see Medusa later. She needs her rest.”

Crystal clutched tighter at Medusa, giving her mother a woeful expression full of pleading. “But mother, she just woke up!”

“I know, but she’s been hurt and it’s better for her to rest.”

Crystal let out a disappointed whine, turning her sad blue eyes back to Medusa. She could not resist a smile at her little sister despite the circumstances, and her arms and hair reached out in a tight hug.

“You can see me again soon, maybe even later today,” she said softly. “Maybe even today.”

“Okay,” said Crystal, her voice muffled by hair. Seemingly satisfied with this, she pulled back, and Medusa retracted her hair. Crystal limbed down off the bed, going to stand beside their parents.

“We’ll be back later,” said Ambur, giving her daughter a sympathetic look.

Medusa nodded silently, and her family left the room quietly. She let her head fall back against the pillow, wincing as pain shot through her temple with the movement.

She brought her hands up to her face, rubbing her eyes. Everything had gone from good to horrible with a single noise, and it left her in turmoil.

Perhaps she should be happy. Surely they would not let her marry Blackagar after such an incident. Maybe she could finally go home as she had wanted, no longed having to conform to being a princess, being forced to marry for lineage.

A month ago, the thought may have appealed to her, but now it made her feel sick. She could practically see Blackagar hunched over in that lonely cell, the painful muzzle clamping over his lips and sealing them shut out of fear. To leave the palace, to be without him, she couldn’t do it. Her heart stirred with strange emotion; she did not want to leave him. It would be painful, and she would miss him.

Regardless of what her parents, her sister, her cousins, even now the whole of Attilan thought of Blackagar now, she knew he was not dangerous. It could have been a result of being overwhelmed, but he had been doing so well when he saw the people accepted his speech. Even if he had been overwhelmed as she had felt, she had seen him go through stress and fear without a sound passing his lips. He had undergone agony at the hands of his own parents, and still he had remained silent.

The image of his eyes looking at her, so full of fear, flashed through her mind. I cannot stop it, they had said to her, or so she thought. He had pushed her away roughly and with heightened strength, so unlike his usual gentleness, but with good reason.

He was protecting her from himself.

She reached back and touched her temple, feeling the bandage. He had not meant for it to happen and she knew it. Someone had to have influenced him, but who, how? Who would want to usurp Blackagar’s ascension as heir? Someone who was so afraid of his power they felt he had to be stopped? How could they have bypassed his great control?

She let her hands drop to her sides, scowling at the bleach-white ceiling. There were so many questions, but she would not accept that it was Blackagar’s fault. She could not, for she could not…she could not see a good life without him there, by her side.

She blinked, taken aback by the thought. When had she begun to think that way? When had she begun to envision herself happily by Blackagar’s side throughout her life? Perhaps it was only just now, when such a future was in jeopardy of never being realized that she was thinking that way. Nevertheless, she would fight for Blackagar, for him to be freed.

Her heart called to him.

She would set him free.

 

In the isolated cell, the Crown Prince sat, his head bowed, his mind full of guilt and turmoil and shame and anger.

But still his heart called to her.

Yet he was not free.

 

Agon paced the length of his and Rynda’s chambers, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He was deeply troubled by the events of the Christening; it was the last thing he had expected to occur. It seemed downright unnatural for Blackagar to do such a thing. He had seemed so encouraged and hopeful standing there with Medusalith, and he had not missed the way they looked at each other when the other was not looking. It reminded him of him and Rynda in the days of their youth.

Blackagar would not do such a thing without a purpose.

“Agon.” Rynda entered the room with hardly a sound. “We must decide on what to do with Blackagar.”

Agon frowned, facing his wife. “Yes. We must make amends to the people and assure them it was an accident, then maybe Blackagar can—”

“Can what?” Rynda interrupted. “Go in front of the people again?”

“Yes, I think that would be the best course of action.”

The queen shook her head. “No, Agon. He has clearly exhibited his lack of control in front of the people no less. He cannot return to the public eye.”

Agon’s frown deepened. “He has spent his entire life locked up in that cell. Do you expect him to spend the rest of it in there as well?”

“No.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

Rynda looked him straight in the eyes. “He must be Pacified.”

Agon paled. “Pacified?” His voice was merely a whisper, the dread word seeming to chill the air in the room.

“He is dangerous beyond compare. We have held off longer than we should have in the first place.”

“No.” He shook his head in pure disbelief. “No. It was an accident, perhaps another Inhuman exercising influence over him.”

“He must be Pacified,” Rynda pressed

Agon took his wife’s face in his hands, looking deep into her eyes. “The Pacifiers will only kill him. He is our son, Rynda!”

“Yes,” said she, “but this is the way it must be.”

Agon stared at her a moment longer before slowly dropping his hands to his sides. “Yes. This is the way it must be.”


	23. Chapter 23

Medusa spent the next three days trying to sneak out of the infirmary and see Blackagar, but her family—both immediate and extended—hovered incessantly. She knew it was because they cared, but it was infuriating. Every time she tried to leave her parents seemed to pop out of nowhere, forcing her back into bed no matter the amount of protest she gave. Her cousins did the same, and though she questioned them every day about Blackagar’s wellbeing, it seemed they were in the dark just as much as she.

“We cannot go see him,” said Triton. “The king and queen have ordered him to be off limits, even to us.”

His words troubled Medusa deeply, and ever passing moment she lay confined in the uncomfortable bed in that too-clean room, her anxiety mounted. She had to get to Blackagar, but no matter what she did there was always some obstacle.

Crystal did her best to keep her company. Oblivious to any worries her sister had over the Crown Prince, she could chatter for hours on end about the sights she saw around the palace. She even brought Lockjaw to see her, but he had become overexcited and nearly broke the bed, so he was banned from visiting Medusa from then on.

Finally, on the fourth day, her hopes were lifted. Karnak brought news that the queen wanted an audience with her, and though she knew Rynda cared little for her eldest, she hoped she could convince her that what happened was an accident.

“Are you nervous?” Crystal asked as she brushed the river of red hair.

“A little,” Medusa admitted, relishing the feel of her sister’s gentle strokes through the tangled mass.

“Well, maybe she’ll say you can come home,” Crystal suggested. “You didn’t want to get married so maybe now you won’t have to.”

It seemed like an eternity ago when she had first come to the palace. Now the notion of going home was the last thing she wanted.

“Maybe so,” she murmured.

She dressed a plain lavender dress and arranged her hair to strategically cover the bandage on her temple. As she exited the infirmary, her parents met her.

“Whatever the king and queen decide is for the best,” Ambur told her.

“You’re not coming with me?” Medusa asked.

“No. The audience is merely for you and your cousins.”

Medusa nodded. Convincing Rynda would be easier that way; she wouldn’t have to explain everything to her parents.

She entered the meeting room. Her cousins sat on one side of the table while Rynda—and to her surprise, Maximus—sat on the other.

“Your Majesties,” she murmured, dipping a curtsy before hurrying to her seat.

“Now to begin,” said Rynda. “I have called you here today to disclose that Lady Medusalith will no longer be betrothed to Blackagar. Instead she shall marry Maximus.”

A stunned silence followed. No one knew what to say for a long moment.

“Y-Your Majesty,” Medusa stuttered, all thoughts of Blackagar momentarily forgotten. “When was this decided?”

“While you were in the infirmary we had time to think over what our next move was to be,” Rynda said, completely unfazed by her reaction.

“Do I not get a say in this?”

“You do not. As per our agreement with your parents, you will be the next Queen of Attilan regardless of who your husband is.”

It took a moment for Medusa’s thoughts to catch up with her. “Your Majesty, what about the Crown Prince? Surely you cannot dismiss what happened so easily.”

“We have not,” said she, “which is why we made this decision.”

“But Blackagar—the Crown Prince, that is—he wouldn’t just do something like that. There had to be other underlying factors, especially after…” She faltered over her words, almost accusing Rynda of the pain she put him through. “…after the tests he underwent. I believe he has sufficient control over his powers.”

Her steely countenance did not waver save for a single eyebrow raise. “Oh?”

Medusa leaned forward. At least the queen was listening to her. She was aware her cousins were watching her doubtfully, but she ignored them. “You know him too, Your Majesty. He has undergone great stress and not made a sound. It could not have been the stress of the situation. There must have been something else…maybe an Inhuman who thought he was insufficient to rule…”

Rynda did not waver. “What are you saying?”

Medusa took a steadying breath, lacing her fingers and forcing her hair to stand still. “I’m saying I don’t think what happened was Blackagar’s fault. You should let him out of isolation and give him another chance; find out what really happened.”

“I’m afraid that cannot happen.”

Her heart dropped. “Why?”

“That brings me to the second order of business today and the main reason why your cousins are present.” She looked at them all. “Blackagar will be Pacified.”

Another stunned silence followed her statement as the words sank in.

“ _What_?” Medusa exploded, leaping from her chair, her hair flung wide about her and writhing.

Rynda frowned. “Sit down, Medusalith.”

“No!” Her fist slammed down on the table. She was vaguely aware that it hurt, but that was the last thing she cared about. “He is your son!”

“He is dangerous!” Rynda retorted. “You were there.”

“I was, and I know what happened wasn’t his fault!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do!”

“Medusa—” Triton reached out to pull her down, but his words were cut off with a cry of pain as a streak of red cracked across his hand.

“I’m not surprised,” Medusa snarled, feeling the hot sting of tears behind her eyes. “I’m not surprised at all. Ever since I came here, you have made it clear you don’t care about him at all.”

Rynda’s eyes widened. “How dare—”

“ _You_ put him through agony to prove himself, just so he could enter the outside world and live like anyone else!” she shouted, her hair jabbing at the queen like an accusatory finger. “Even when he wondered about you and wanted to talk to you, you never did. All you did was insult him, anger him. And now, without any thought, you would send your own son to die. What must Maximus think of this?”

Maximus, who had been studying his hands, looked up at the sound of his name. He glanced from his mother to Medusa uncertainly, then looked back down at his hands.

Rynda opened her mouth to say something, but Medusa continued. “You are a queen and yet you kill your own son! You are a disgrace to the Royal Family of Attilan. You sicken me.”

Without waiting for a response, she fled, leaving the room filled with a stunned silence.

 

Medusa paced the length of her room. She had not returned to the infirmary; she had returned to her own room. Angry tears tracked down her face and she breathed heavily, trying to keep herself from sobbing altogether. Her temple throbbed with the rush of emotions, but it seemed distant and far away, as did everything else, only one thought prevalent in her mind.

Blackagar would be Pacified. Blackagar would die.

She had to do something. She didn’t care what the king, queen, her parents, her sister, her cousins thought; she would not let him die. Even if it meant being imprisoned, even if it meant fleeing Attilan altogether, she would not let such an injustice occur.

Her tumultuous thoughts were interrupted as a knock came at her door. Initially thinking it would be her parents, she opened her mouth to tell them to go away, but she faltered once she heard the voice through the door.

“Medusa?” Gorgon’s unmistakable growl reached her ears. “We know you’re in there, cousin. Open up.”

Medusa hurried to open the door. Surely her cousins would aid her in her attempts to free Blackagar.

The three cousins stole in quietly, and she shut the door behind them. There was a moment of silence where no one spoke; they merely studied her. It was Karnak who broke the silence.

“What was that?”

Medusa snorted. “That? That was me telling Rynda exactly how I feel.”

“It was a mistake,” Karnak said. “You should not have done that.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What should I have done? Sit there and let her sentence her son to death?”

Karnak shook his head. “What she is doing is not right and we know it, but it is foolish to anger the one who could Pacify _you_ if she wanted to.”

“I don’t care about that,” said Medusa. “You know as well as I that Blackagar isn’t dangerous. We have to free him.”

“Free him?” Gorgon echoed.

“Yes. We have to get to him before the Pacifiers do.”

“That’s treason!” Triton hissed.

Medusa spread her hands. “And you know what they’re doing is wrong.”

“Yes, but doing something like that could mean serious consequences. You could lose your betrothal entirely, get sent to prison, or worse,” Gorgon argued. “It is best if you simply go along with your betrothal to Maximus.”

“I will not marry him,” she growled. “Blackagar is the Crown Prince.”

“Not for much longer according to the words of the king and queen.”

“So what then?” Medusa cried, outrage seeping into her voice. “Would you let Blackagar, your own family, die for nothing?”

Karnak shook his head. “Our hands are tied. We want to help him, but we are also loyal to our king and queen. What they decide is final.”

Medusa looked between the three of them, the burn of tears returning to her eyes. “You won’t try to set him free, then.”

Triton gave her a despairing look. “We can’t, no matter how much we want to.”

“Fine.” She drew herself up, fixing them all with a scathing glare. “I will do it by myself.”

“Medusa, don’t,” Gorgon warned.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she hissed. “Not when you would let your own cousin die.” She turned to leave the room, the first tear rolling down her face.

“Medusa!” Gorgon stepped forward, reaching out to restrain her, but froze as her hair arranged itself in a defensive cocoon around her.

“I’m going to see him,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You cannot stop me.”

Gorgon let his hands drop. She gave them all one last glare before fleeing the room. The door slammed loudly behind her with a ring of finality.

“We have to try and stop her,” Triton said quietly, his voice seeming loud in the sudden stillness.

Gorgon sighed wearily. “It’s no use. She is set in her ways and once that happens there is no stopping her.” He shook his head. “I always knew that stubbornness of hers would get her into real trouble one day, and I guess that day has come.”

“She is stubborn, yes, but there is a force driving her beyond that, even more unstoppable,” Karnak mused. “I’m afraid we are dealing with a matter of the heart.”


	24. Chapter 24

Medusa hurried towards the isolation chambers. She knew her parents were likely looking for her; if news of her outburst against Rynda hadn’t reached them yet, it would soon.

As she peered around corners and hurried through empty halls, her mind went back to two months ago when she first began visiting Blackagar. How things had changed since then; some for the better and some for the worst.

She saw few people, all of them servants, and none of them bothered to ask where she was going. Once she made it into the metal halls that neared the isolation chambers, there was no one to be seen at all. The hum of technology buzzed in her ears and her footsteps seemed loud on the floor, but other than that there was no sound.

She came to the staircase. Slowly she descended, hoping silently that the code to the door had not been changed since she had last visited. Drawing a hesitant breath, she punched in the code.

0616.

She exhaled with relief as the doors slid open. She darted into the external chamber, but no one stood at the window to greet her, no familiar tall figure. She stood there hesitantly, waiting to see if he would come. The seconds ticked by, but he did not.

“Blackagar?” she called, her voice sounding oddly loud in the oppressive silence. “Blackagar, it’s me!”

Nothing.

Medusa stepped towards the window, raising a hand and rapping her knuckles on the cold glass. How she hated that glass now.

“Blackagar!” she called again as she knocked. When she got no response, she called his name again several times.

Still nothing.

Frowning, she looked about. Perhaps he could not hear her, or he was asleep. Nevertheless, she had to talk to him. Off on the right side of the windowed wall was the door that led to the inner chamber. It electronic, however it was sealed with a lock that had a keyhole.

She scowled at the door. Where was she going to get a key? She was about to turn and go back to knocking on the window when she realized: she didn’t need a key.

A mischievous smile that she couldn’t help despite the situation worked its way onto her face. She hadn’t done something like this since she was younger, breaking into the cupboard to filch cookies for her sister and cousins.

Several slivers of hair slid into the keyhole. It was not overly complicated; after a minute or so of fiddling, the door beeped and slid back.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she stepped into the inner chamber.

 

Blackagar stared at the metallic wall opposite his bed. After being free for so long, the muzzle seemed to crush down on his lips, a dull ache throbbing through his jaw. A tray of food sat untouched on the table beside his bed. He had barely eaten the past four days; the guilt was too crushing.

He had his chance, and he failed.

He didn’t know what possessed him to make a sound. He must be going insane; because of that action he had gone back into isolation, never to see his cousins, Medusa, again.

The thought of Medusa was the most painful. The last he’d seen of her, she lay crumpled below the dais, blood seeping from her head. He had fled then, running all the way back to his chambers. Guards came swiftly after him—most likely sent by his parents—to ensure he was in his chambers. After that, they had left him alone, only him and his guilt.

He was undeniably dangerous. There was no questioning it now; he had done the unthinkable. He had hurt Medusa, and he deserved what was coming to him.

His head shot up as he heard the doors open. Even though he was out of sight of the window, he sat still, hardly daring to breath. For a moment, all was silent, and he wondered who had entered.

“Blackagar? Blackagar, it’s me!”

His traitorous heart soared at the sound of Medusa’s voice. He hadn’t hurt her beyond being able to make it to his chambers. Every part of his mind screamed at him to go see her, but he swiftly banished them. He was dangerous, and seeing her would make his fate all the more painful.

A knock came upon the glass. “Blackagar!”

He clenched his fists around the metal bed frame. He could hear the confusion on her voice, but it must not sway him. He stared at the wall, feeling the metal bend beneath his fingers as she called out his name several more times. He couldn’t.

Then all was silent. Blackagar tilted his head, listening. The seconds ticked by, but there was no more. She must have left. Slowly he let his head fall, his shoulders sagging. His heart hurt, but it was for the best in the end.

The door opened.

 

Medusa stepped into the inner chambers. Off to her right was the recess with the window and opposite her was the doorway that likely led to the bedchamber. Steeling her resolve, she headed for the door.

Blackagar leapt to his feet as the familiar red headed figure appeared in his doorway.

“Blackagar!” Medusa smiled, feeling as if she might cry from relief. She took a step towards him but froze as his hands flew up. He gestured wildly, his eyes full of panic.

_Stay away!_

“Blackagar,” she said, swallowing at the sight of the muzzle. “What’s the matter?”

He pointed at himself, pounded his fist into his open palm, then pointed at her. _I hurt you_.

Medusa unconsciously reached up to touch the bandage. “You were protecting me. It’s not that bad anyway.”

He gave her a pleading look. _Please get out._

She shook her head. “Blackagar, I’ve come to help you, to get you out of here.”

It was his turn to shake his head.

“You don’t understand.” She took a fortifying breath. “The Pacifiers have been sent for you. They’re going to kill you.” Her voice cracked slightly on the last two words, but she kept her composure. She waited for the look of outrage, the silent _why?_ , but none came. To her confusion, he merely nodded.

“You know?”

Nod.

“Then what are we doing here?” she cried. “We have to get out! We have to go somewhere.”

He shook his head.

Medusa stared at him. “What happened wasn’t a mistake, Blackagar. There had to be something else going on. You can’t blame yourself.”

But again he shook his head.

“So you’re going to stay here and let the Pacifiers kill you?”

Slowly he nodded.

She felt like she would be sick. This was the last thing she imagined happening. “Why?”

His hands flew in signs, but many of them were complex, ones she had yet to learn.

“I don’t understand!” she said, only then realizing she was crying. “You can’t let yourself die!”

Blackagar threw up his hands in silent frustration, walking in a circle.

“Black Bolt.”

He froze, looking back at her. Tears were running down her face freely now.

“Why?”

He walked towards her, slowly, deliberately, until they were almost touching. Medusa peered up at him, her breath coming in deep gasps in her attempts to keep from sobbing. The air charged around them, and his apparatus sparked.

_Medusa._

Her breath caught in her throat. A voice that was deep and masculine had entered her head, said her name.

“Black Bolt?” she whispered. “Is that you?”

Blackagar nodded.

She swallowed. She could ask about it later. “Why do you think you need to die?”

 _Because,_ said his voice in her head _, I am dangerous. I have no control. I am lucky I did not hurt more._

“And you think you should die because of that?”

_I should have died long ago._

“Didn’t you hear what I said? There had to be something else! I know you. I know you wouldn’t just…just do that!”

_Then you do not know me half as well as you thought. I did do just that, and now here we are._

_Whap!_

Blackagar’s head jerked sideways, and it took a moment for the sting to register in his left cheek. He turned his eyes back to hers, and they were bright with tears and fury.

“I will not let you die, Blackagar Boltagon!” Medusa thundered, her hair writhing. “I will not let you give yourself up for something that wasn’t your fault, you stupid, stupid man!”

Blackagar just stared at her, trying to process what was going on. She stood before him, all formality giving way to fiery emotion and just as fiery hair. In that moment he was beholden to the true Medusa, full of emotion and power.

“You have to let me help you!” When she received no response, desperation took over. “Please! You can’t just die! You can’t! I…” She trailed off, tears overtaking her.

Blackagar’s mind came out of a fog, the sting of the slap seeming like the first real thing he had experienced in days. What was he doing, letting himself walk into death by his own parents’ hands? Realizing what he had done, he wrapped Medusa up in his arms, never wanting to let go.

_Help me live, Medusa._

She sobbed, this time with relief. For a terrible moment she thought she was doomed to lose him. She clutched at his arms, crying into his chest as he gently rocked her back and forth.

 _I’m sorry_ , he told her at last. _I don’t know what I was thinking._

“I don’t either,” she sniffed, pulling back slightly so she could look him in the eyes. “Can you tell me what happened? What made you use your voice?”

He frowned behind his muzzle. _I’m not sure. I…just suddenly felt I could not control it anymore, and I had to let it out._

Medusa matched his frown. “But you tried to stop it?”

_I did._

“It must have been another Inhuman, somehow exercising influence on you.”

It began to make some sense to him, coming together in his head, but it left many questions to be answered.

 _Who? How? Why?_ The thoughts came rapid fire into her head.

“I don’t know yet, but we need to get somebody to stay the Pacifiers, somebody your parents will listen to, so we can figure it out.”

 _Who?_ his eyes asked.

“Maybe…maybe Maximus.”

His brows furrowed. I am not sure about that.

“They won’t listen to me. He’s our only chance.”

They would listen to me if I spoke.

“Blackagar,” Medusa warned, “I know you’re angry at them, but don’t say such things.”

_I am sorry, it’s just…_

“I know,” said she, “but we will make it right.”

_What if they do not listen?_

“Then…we leave Attilan.”

_Leave Attilan?_

Medusa winced, the mental exclamation loud in her mind. “Hopefully it won’t come to that, but we might have to.”

Blackagar sighed silently.

“I will talk to Maximus tomorrow. He likes me; he’ll probably listen to what I say.”

_Probably._

“You underestimate my powers of persuasion.”

I know. His eyes flickered over her face. You should go.

“I know, I just have one more question.”

_What is that?_

“Why are you just now speaking to me this way? Why haven’t you all along?”

Blackagar ducked his head as though embarrassed _. It is…mentally taxing on me, and I find myself more comfortable communicating in the language of signs_.

She smiled softly. “Not used to speaking, even through minds?”

He shook his head.

“I think I prefer it that way too. It’s…jarring, having someone else in your head.”

Blackagar nodded. The charge in the air around them dissipated, and she felt a small sensation in her mind, signaling he had left.

 _Better?_ he signed.

“Better,” she affirmed. “I guess I should go. Just…take that muzzle off.”

Blackagar reached up to touch the object, giving her a look.

“You won’t hurt me or anyone else. It wasn’t your fault and you know it.” Without waiting for a response, she reached up and undid the bindings of the muzzle, pulling it off his face. He flexed his jaw, reaching up and massaging the stiff muscles.

“I’ll go talk to Maximus tomorrow,” Medusa said. “I’ll come back here. If he can’t sway your parents, well…”

_We leave._

“We leave,” she said aloud.

Blackagar gently took the muzzle from her. Her eyes were still red-rimmed with the tears she had shed, and the bandage on her head stuck out like a sore thumb no matter how much she tried to hide it.

She was beautiful.

He leaned down, pressing his freed lips to her dampened cheek, and with the kiss was a simple message. _Thank you._

Medusa’s hair curled wildly as he pulled away. “I will be back, no matter what happens.”

He gestured. _Go._

Giving him a smile, she hurried away. Blackagar waited until he heard the hiss of the exterior doors to finally turn away.

He was almost free.


	25. Chapter 25

Medusa flopped backwards, her head hitting the pillow. It felt good to be back in her usual bed; it was much more comfortable than the infirmary. In retrospect, maybe she should have gone back, but she couldn’t bear the thought of staying in the sterile, washed out room any longer.

She knew her parents would find her eventually, and she didn’t know what would happen when they did. Even so, nothing, not even them, would stop her from completing her mission.

She lay there for a while, losing herself in thought. Her eyelids were starting to droop when she heard the soft sound of her door opening. For a moment she did not say anything, deducing who it was that stood there.

“If you’re worried I’m going to yell at you, I’m not,” she said.

A soft sigh of relief, then, “I was just making sure.”

Medusa raised her head to look at Crystal. She beckoned with her hair, indicating she was welcome to sit on the bed.

“Mother and father were looking for you,” Crystal said as she hoisted herself onto the bed. “I was, too.”

“I know,” Medusa murmured.

“Our cousins didn’t know where you’d gone, either.”

Medusa allowed herself a small smirk. “I thought not.”

“Where did you go?” Crystal asked, turning to look at her sister.

“I…went somewhere to think,” Medusa said.

“About Blackagar?”

Medusa looked at her sister. “Well…yes.”

Crystal nodded as if she’d expected this. “I don’t agree with what the king and queen are doing either, but I can’t do anything about it.”

“What they’re doing is an atrocity,” Medusa said, her anger flaring with the thought of it. “I’m going to stop it.”

“How? You’re already pledged to Maximus.”

Medusa pushed herself fully upright, scooting close to Crystal. “You must keep what I’m about to say to you a secret, understand?”

Crystal nodded, studying her sister’s face seriously. “I will.”

Medusa took a deep breath before continuing. “Tomorrow, I will speak with Maximus about interceding on his brother’s behalf. If he finds he can’t…” or won’t, she added silently, “then Blackagar and I will leave Attilan.”

“ _Leave Atti_ —” Crystal’s shriek of outrage was cut off by a tendril of hair wrapping around her mouth.

“Shh!” Medusa hissed. “You’ll wake up the whole palace like that!”

“Leave Attilan?” Crystal whispered fiercely when Medusa removed her hair. “You can’t do that!”

“We’ll have to,” she said firmly. “Blackagar will not die to the hate of his parents.”

Crystal was silent for a moment before she replied. “You visited him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Medusa sighed. “I did.”

Her eyes widened. “How did you manage it? What did you do? How did you get in? Have you done it before--?”

Medusa held up a silencing hand. “The only thing that’s important is that we decided that, if all else fails, we will leave Attilan.”

“How? What will you do?”

“Blackagar will get us there. I’ve heard stories about people who have powers, not necessarily Inhumans, but perhaps we will seek them out.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” said Crystal.

“I don’t want to leave either,” said Medusa. “But Blackagar will not die so long as I can help it.”

“Do you love him?”

Medusa froze at the question. At first she considered her sister might be teasing, but her face was full of something it rarely was: dead seriousness.

“I…I don’t know,” she answered truthfully.

“Nearly three months ago you hated the idea of marrying him,” said Crystal. “Now you will leave Attilan with him to save his life.”

Medusa shook her head. "It's not that simple."

"It seems that way to me."

"You're young," she murmured. "As you get older things will get more complicated. You'll see."

Crystal studied her shrewdly. "Be careful, Medusa. Do you still have Lockjaw's whistle?"

"Yes, I do." She rose from the bed, crossing the room to her desk and taking the small trinket out of the drawer where it had lain forgotten for months.

"Keep it with you," said Crystal. "Just in case."

"I will."

"I should probably get back to my room before it gets too late." Crystal inhaled deeply. "Whatever happens, I love you."

Medusa felt her heart twist. "I love you too."

Crystal left like a small ghost, exiting her room with hardly a sound. Medusa was left in the silence with a burning question in her mind.

_Do I love him?_

 

"We expect you to apologize to Queen Rynda and the Crown Prince."

Medusa tried not to grimace at the mention of Maximus' newly bestowed title. "Yes, mother."

"We know it all seems unfair to you, but believe me when I say that the king and queen have the best interests of their sons and their people in mind."

"Yes, mother." Medusa kept her face a mask of dejectedness, her hair limp to mirror the false emotion as a disguise for her inward seething at Rynda. "I intended to speak with Maximus anyway."

Ambur nodded curtly. "See that you do." She let out a sigh. "You may go."

Medusa sprang to her feet, eager to speak with Maximus. She had spent the last half hour being lectured by her mother, and she could have cared less, but they did not need to know that lest they keep her even longer.

She hurried towards Maximus' chambers, primping as she went. She was dressed to impress in a long gown of magenta, hoping that if Maximus was obstinate as he sometimes was, she might win him over with a little bit of charm.

She stopped outside his door, taking a fortifying breath and willing her hair not to writhe with the anxiety boiling within. It was this or leave Attilan.

She raised her hand and knocked on the door.

"Enter," came Maximus' voice.

Medusa opened the door, taking a step inside. The prince sat with his back to her, fiddling away with some sort of technology, various bits of circuitry and metal strewn over his desk.

"Maximus," said she.

He turned around, his eyes widening at the sight of her. "Lady Medusalith! I apologize; I was not expecting you."

"It is quite alright," she said, her hair twitching slightly.

He rose from his chair, straightening his clothes. “To what do I owe this visit?” He took her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it.

“I’ve come to talk to you about a matter of great importance,” said she.

Maximus met her gaze and his face sobered as if he sensed the gravity of the mater. “Of course, dear lady. Please sit.”

They both sat upon the edge of his bed. Medusa fidgeted, her hair rippling restlessly.

“I’ve come to speak with you about your brother.”

Maximus’ face darkened slightly. “Ah, yes. I figured that would be the case.”

“I want you to realize something,” she said. “I want you to know—”

“—that my brother is dangerous and in need of Pacifying,” Maximus interrupted. “After your outburst against my mother surely you’ve come to realize just how dangerous he is!”

It took Medusa a moment to regain her voice. “No, my lord, you misunderstand. In fact, I want you to know the opposite. Blackagar isn’t dangerous at all.”

A look of confusion made its way onto the young prince’s face. “What? Surely you out of all of us must know how dangerous he is. You were standing right next to him at the Christening, and the price you paid as a result is obvious.”

Medusa shifted her hair over the bandage a little more. “It was an accident. I have reason to believe that Blackagar was under the influence of another Inhuman that caused him to speak.”

Maximus shook his head. “That’s far-fetched, my lady. Even if it were true, what would you have me do?”

“I want you to help me free him,” Medusa said, beginning to feel desperate. “Your own mother has sentenced your brother to death. Surely you must disagree with what she s doing!”

“He is dangerous,” Maximus said firmly. “He has the power to destroy Attilan entirely, and after the Christening all the people have realized this. I know it might be hard to give up someone you spent time with, but please, come out of this denial! For the good of Attilan, he must die, and I promise…” he reached out to touch her hair, “…I will be ten times the husband he could be.”

Medusa stood, her hair pulling back instinctively before he could touch it. She felt both revolted and saddened at his easy dismissal of his brother; the rift in their relationship was wider than she thought.

“Thank you, my lord,” she said, doing her best to remain neutral. “But I cannot give this up.” She turned to leave.

“And I cannot let you leave.”

Medusa turned halfway. “What…?” Before she could finish, Maximus snatched something off his desk and darted forward. There was a sharp sting in her neck, and her hair went numb, falling limply around her. Panic surged through her at the sensation, but before she can act on it, her limbs turned weak and she fell to the floor.

Maximus crouched down next to her, studying her with a triumphant glint in his eyes. “That worked better than I had supposed.”

“What’s…going on?” Medusa gasped, attempting in vain to move her hair, her limbs, anything.

“I simply cannot have you rescuing my brother,” he said. “I was always the better fit to be the King of Attilan, and you, my sweet, perfect, Medusalith, shall be my queen.”

“No!” she snarled, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.

Maximus scoffed at her. “Come now, I was hoping you would accept me of your own free will. You are pledged to me now; why can’t you just accept it?”

“Because…Blackagar doesn’t deserve to die!” she hissed.

Maximus reached out, grabbing her face roughly and drawing it so close to his she could feel his breath on her skin. “I will give you this one last chance to be my queen of your own will. Do you love me, Medusalith?”

“No,” she said. “Whatever affection I had for you died only moments ago.”

“Then tell me,” said he, “do you love my brother?”

The question gave Medusa pause. It was the same question posed to her by Crystal the previous day, but now, where it seemed that life and death itself hung in the balance, she knew her answer with a sudden, shining clarity.

“Yes, I love him.”

Maximus’ eyes widened, as if amazed by this revelation. “How can you love him? Even if he loved you back he would never be able to declare it, not for as long as you live.”

“Because love is more than words,” Medusa told him, now more sure of herself than ever. “He does not have to speak. He can be silent until the day he dies and his love will be more than words.”

“But you were supposed to love me!” In a fit of rage, Maximus shoved her head down, banging it against the floor. Medusa lay there, unable to move, pain throbbing through her head as she listened to his heavy breathing.

“No matter,” said he. “You will love me anyway.”

Before she could even begin to understand what he meant, something came into her mind. It was like a rushing wave, overtaking everything in its path: her thoughts, her control, the whole of her mind. She had time for one final scream before she fell silent.

“I love you, Medusalith,” said Maximus, cradling her face with a sudden tenderness.

“I love you, my lord,” she responded.

 

It was nearing evening when Blackagar heard the doors to his cell open. He readied himself eagerly, having waited all day for Medusa’s arrival and the sweetness of her presence. No matter what happened, he would be free and with her.

The door to his inner chambers opened and he exited his bedroom, his hands raised and ready to sign a greeting. Instead he found several of Attilan’s guards standing in the doorway, their faces expressionless, their eyes glassy.

One of the guards leapt forwards, pressing a tiny piece of technology to his neck. A sharp sting caused him to instinctively raise his hands to his throat, and the next thing he knew something hard hit him over the head, his last thoughts of Medusa as he sank into blackness.


	26. Chapter 26

Crystal had not seen her sister in three days. Her first inclination was to think that she and the Crown Prince had indeed left Attilan, which caused her worry to spike, but it seemed unlike Medusa to leave without saying goodbye. She then learned that Medusa had not left Attilan at all on the third day by way of her parents.

“Medusa seems to have accepted the fact she is now pledged to Maximus,” Ambur had told Quelin. “I’m relieved, though it’s a shame things couldn’t be worked out with Blackagar.”

“Yes,” Quelin had replied. “I’d largely prefer postponing a wedding for several months until he comes of age instead of giving her over to that destroyer. I’m glad she’s realized it’s all for her wellbeing.”

Upon overhearing this conversation, Crystal had become confused and alarmed. She knew her sister was stubborn beyond all reason, and she wouldn’t let go of helping the Crown Prince without something standing in her way. So, doing the best thing she could think of, she went searching for her sister.

She searched everywhere: her bedroom, the gardens, the dining hall, the infirmary, but all were devoid of the unmistakable redhead. Finally, her search brought her outside the door of Maximus himself. Thoroughly frustrated after a day of searching in vain, she barged in without knocking, only to find her sister and the prince mid-kiss.

“Oh,” was the first thing that came out of her mouth.

Maximus broke away, regarding Crystal with surprise. “Lady Crystalia! My apologies…we were not expecting you, much less so…abruptly.”

Crystal felt her face growing red. The alarm she had felt previously spiked to a new level, and she only just remembered her manners, dipping a curtsy.

“I’m sorry, prince, I just wanted to speak with my sister, and I couldn’t find her.”

Maximus looked at Medusa. “Certainly you may speak with her. You are excused, Medusalith.”

Medusa looked at Crystal for the first time. She showed no signs of embarrassment, or any emotion at all for that matter. Even her hair lacked emotion, waving in an endless wind behind her. Crystal beckoned her to come and she did without a word, following her sister down the hall until they were out of earshot of Maximus.

“What are you doing?” Crystal cried, turning on her sister. “Why were you kissing him? What about freeing the Crown Prince?”

“Maximus is the Crown Prince,” Medusa said firmly, regarding her sister with cold eyes. “I have come to realize that Blackagar is dangerous, and I will embrace the betrothal set between me and Maximus.”

“What?” Crystal gaped at her. “Have you gone mad? Why are you doing this?”

“I have discovered my true feelings are for Maximus and him alone,” said Medusa. “There is no changing them.”

Crystal could only stare. Medusa regarded her as one might regard an annoying gnat before turning on her heel and walking back towards Maximus’ chambers.

 

_No, no, Crystal! I’m sorry!_ Medusa could only do as he willed her, so she turned her back on her sister and went back to his chambers. Her mind may have been taken, but her subconscious was not, and she was aware of everything that went on.

“You dealt with irritation well, my dear,” said Maximus as she returned.

_No_. Medusa wanted to sneer. _You dealt with her_.

She recoiled inwardly as he approached her, gently pressing his lips to hers. She wanted to push him away, claw at him, anything to rid her lips of his, but she could only bear it in silence as he wished.

Maximus pulled away, regarding her with some sort of triumphant affection. He ran a hand across the flowing tresses of her hair with what could be mistaken as tenderness. The little piece of technology had been removed once he overtook her mind, allowing her hair and limbs to function again, but only when he wanted to.

Only days before he had abused this power. His servant—his name was Halis, she thought—had overheard her struggle and came rushing to her aid, poor, noble man that he was.

“Halis, you have been a good servant to me,” Maximus had said, urging Medusa to her feet and removing the device from his neck. “But I’m afraid you know too much now. Medusa, take care of him.”

She could only watch in horror as her hair snaked out, wrapping around his neck. He had struggled, but Maximus willed her to tighten her grip, feeling his pulse flutter against her hair until it ceased altogether as he fell limp. She had stared at the dead man, horrified at what she had just done but unable to express it. Only moments later guards had come in, gathering the body and taking it without question.

“There, there, my love,” Maximus had said, taking her into his embrace. “It was for the best.”

Medusa had wanted to cry and scream—she still did even three days later. She wanted to call for her parents, her sister, her cousins, Blackagar, anybody who could help her, but she was trapped in the body that no longer belonged to her. He could make her kiss him, profess false love, even kill a man, and she had no say.

She belonged to Maximus, and she hated it.

 

Crystal hurried, her stomach churning. The person she had just spoken to was definitely not her sister. All the fire from the previous days was gone, replaced by cold emptiness. She had never seen Medusa that way, and she knew something was terribly wrong. Medusa needed help, but she couldn’t do it alone. So she hurried, knowing her cousins would surely help her.

She was on the way to find them when, to her irritation, she ran into her mother.

“There you are, Crystal!” said Ambur, descending upon her youngest. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! We need to get you ready for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she echoed, trying to keep the impatience from her voice. “What’s tomorrow?”

“The Crown Prince and your sister will present their intent to marry before the Council,” Ambur said, giving her a hard look. “Weren’t you listening this morning?”

Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t listened. Her mind had been far off, dwelling on Medusa even as it was now.

Ambur didn’t wait for a response. “Come. The tailors have prepared a wonderful dress for you and we must make sure it is perfect.”

“but mother!” Crystal cried, panic surging through her in a sickening wave. If she didn’t help Medusa soon, she would be sealed to Maximus. “I want to go see my cousins.”

Ambur pursed her lips. “That can wait. This is more important.”

Crystal tried to protest again, but her mother would have none of it. She could only resign herself as she was dragged off to the world of fabric and measurements, unable to help her sister.

 

Crystal lay in her bed, her body tingling where the needles in the tailors' unwitting hands had pricked her skin as they tried to pin her dress, a slight sting lingering in her nerves that was rapidly forming into an irritating itchiness.

The room was dark and quiet save for Lockjaw's guttural snores, but her eyes were wide open. She listened to the sound of her parents' muffled voices beyond the right wall, waiting. She had to talk to her cousins regardless of how late it was, but her parents had to be asleep before she could try and sneak away.

She scratched at the needle-pricked skin as she waited, the sensation only adding to her feelings of irritation and fear for her sister. The image of her kissing Maximus was forever seared into her mind, and no matter how hard she tried she could not rid herself of it. It unsettled her deeply that Medusa would kiss anybody, much less a man she had only just become betrothed to. She could envision her sister and the true Crown Prince—from what little she had seen of him on the day of the Christening—standing happily side by side, yet even then Medusa would not engage in such an unseemly act. It was improper and scandalous, for Maximus and Medusa were not yet married, and her sister knew that more than anyone, so why would she do such a thing?

Finally, the voice of her parents ceased. She waited a little longer, the minutes dragging by, until she was sure they would be asleep. Then she slipped out of bed as quietly as she could and headed for the door.

Lockjaw heard her movement, raising his head and letting out a soft whine as his friend made to leave.

"Shh!" Crystal went and scratched behind his ears affectionately. "I'll be back soon, boy. Stay here."

Lockjaw eyed her with a forlorn look of questioning, as if to say _why can't I come_? But he seemed to accept her orders and laid his head on is paws, watching her go.

Crystal darted into the hallway, inching the door shut behind her. It was so quiet that the soft displacement of carpet beneath her feet seemed loud as she headed towards the male section of the royal chambers.

She hadn't the slightest idea of which rooms belonged to her cousins, but as she progressed further into the male section, it was made obvious to her. She stopped in front of one door from which emanated snoring so loud it vibrated through her body, and she knew only one person who could be that obnoxious even while he slept.

She crept into the room, the snoring growing exponentially louder as the barrier of the door was removed. Gorgon was out like a log, his hooves propped up on the end of the bedframe, his head thrown back on the pillow and his mouth wide open, the source of the snoring.

Crystal approached the bedside. "Gorgon."

He continued snoring, dead to the world.

She was in no mood to attempt to wake him gently. There was no time. "Gorgon!" She shouted, a little louder than she had meant.

The snoring cut off with what sounded like a painful snort as Gorgon sat up in bed, his hooves clacking against the bedframe. "Eh? Whozzer?" He squinted at her through bleary eyes.. "Crystal?"

"I need to talk to you," said she, the full sense of urgency returning to her. "All of you."

 

She sat on the edge of Gorgon's bed, her legs dangling idly off the edge as she listened to the irritated whispering right on the other side of the door. If they thought they were doing a good job at keeping their conversation a secret, they couldn’t be more wrong.

"What do you mean she had something to talk about?" came Karnak's exasperated tones.

"I don’t know!" Gorgon replied, sounding equally exasperated.

"How do you know she just didn’t have a nightmare?" Triton offered, slightly calmer than the others.

"Why would she ask for all of us?"

"I don’t know," Gorgon snarled.

Crystal slid off the bed, the last bit of her patience running out. She marched to the door and flung it open, fixing the trio with what she hoped was a harsh glare.

“I don’t care what you think I want. I know what I want, which is all of you to help me.” Her tone became slightly desperate. “Medusa’s in trouble. I don’t know what to do.”

The cousins glanced at each other before filing into the room, shutting the door behind them.

“When was the last time you saw her?” she asked.

Gorgon scratched his head. “A few days ago now, I guess.”

“None of you have seen her since then?”

“No. She was angry with us so we were avoiding her.”

“She was going to free Blackagar.”

“We know that,” Karnak interjected.

Crystal frowned at him. “She said she was going to talk to Maximus about getting him to stay the Pacifiers, and if that didn’t work, she would leave Attilan with Blackagar.

Gorgon’s eyebrows shot up. “Leave Attilan?”

“I know it sounds crazy but that’s what she said,” Crystal continued. “I hadn’t seen her in the past few days so I thought she left, but then earlier today I heard my parents talking about her having a change of heart.”

“A change of heart?” Karnak echoed.

“She apparently has accepted a betrothal with Maximus. I went looking for her, and I found her…with him.”

“Well, maybe she’s trying to convince him to free Blackagar that way,” Triton offered.

Crystal shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. She was kissing him.”

“Kissing him?” Gorgon exclaimed. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” said she. “When I asked her about Blackagar she said that he’s dangerous and she loves Maximus.”

The three cousins traded worried looks. If it was one thing they knew, it was that Medusa was obstinate in her feelings towards Blackagar’s innocence.

“Something is very wrong,” Karnak muttered.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Crystal burst out. “Medusa wasn’t herself. She was cold and emotionless, and I don’t know what happened what to do. Tomorrow she and Maximus are going to announce their betrothal to the Council.”

“We need to get to Blackagar,” said Karnak. “I’m not sure what’s going on yet but it sounds like Maximus has something to do with all of this.”

“But why?” Gorgon asked. “Maximus has never cared for Blackagar, but would he really hate him so much as to steal his queen and send him to death?”

“That’s why we need to get to Blackagar before the Pacifiers do,” Karnak said.

“When are the Pacifiers coming for him?” Triton asked Crystal.

“I don’t know,” Crystal said.

“Soon, undoubtedly,” said Karnak. “If Maximus has taken control of things, Blackagar will likely be heavily guarded.”

“Get him tomorrow during the ceremony,” said Crystal. “Everyone will be distracted.”

“What about Medusa?” Gorgon asked.

“I have to be at the ceremony. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“What happens when we get Blackagar?”

“We’ll figure it out then,” said Karnak. “He can likely tell us what happened.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Gorgon.

“What about treason?” Triton wondered aloud. “We’ll be thrown in the dungeon for doing something like this.”

Karnak shook his head grimly. “I wouldn’t worry about that, brother. It seems that Maximus is the treasonous one.”

 

Medusa sat still as the maidservants fluttered about, preparing her for her appearance before the Council. They were different maidservants, ones who had never attended her before, likely to keep the ones who knew her from being suspicious about her shift in personality. She wondered what had become of Marista; she could only hope she had not met as cruel a fate as she.

Makeup was applied to her face in thick layers as it had been every day, hiding away the bruises from where Maximus had thrown her head against the floor.

“We can’t have anyone worrying over you,” Maximus had told her.

The maidservants asked her questions, silly ones about marriage and princes, and the traitorous mouth that was no longer her own answered. She had fought against his hold since he had first overtaken her, and now her will was exhausted. She now knew there was no escaping his grasp unless something happened to him.

He had lied to them all; the Terrigen Mists had made him a true Inhuman, giving him the gift of mind control, and now he would use that power to usurp and kill his own brother. She was unfortunate enough to be caught in the middle, and it seemed she would be stuck living out her days under his control. She desperately held on to the hope that Blackagar was still alive and he would come to her aid, but with each passing day the hope grew dimmer.

The maidservants finished their work just as Maximus entered her dressing room, his eyes bright with an ambitious light. She rose automatically, facing him.

“You look wonderful, my love,” said he, his eyes roaming over her with a hungry glint.

Medusa wanted to curl into herself, to hide her body away from the lustful gaze, but she stayed in place. “Thank you, my lord.”

Maximus waved the maidservants out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. Medusa’s consciousness fluttered with fear. They were alone now.

He came forward, cupping her face tenderly in his hands. A tendril of hair came forth at his will, snaking around his arm in the beckoning embrace he wanted her to give. He leaned forward and kissed her, gently, with some sort of twisted reverence. He was gentle with her now, but she wondered just how long the gentleness would last.

He pulled away, smiling at her. “Today, our betrothal will be sealed. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“It is,” she replied as she roiled with hate and despair.

“I will so much better for you than Blackagar ever could have been,” said he. “You only have to realize it, my love.”

_I_ _realize you are a liar_ , she seethed. _Bending people to your will._

“Blackagar thought because he was eldest he would be king,” Maximus went on, still gazing into her eyes. “But when I passed through the Terrigen Mists I saw things with a knew clarity. I am meant to be the king of Attilan. After all, I wouldn’t kill you with a single, deadly word.”

At that point, Medusa recognized the strange glint in his eyes she had seen since the day she arrived at the Royal Palace: it was madness.

_What have the Mists done to you?_ she wondered with newfound pity.

Maximus pulled away, extending an arm which she accepted. “Come, my love. The Council awaits.”

 

Karnak, Gorgon, and Triton all met in the royal chambers. Fortunately for them, they were not required to attend the meeting. In fact, it seemed that they were not wanted altogether.

“Are you ready?” Gorgon asked, cracking his knuckles.

“As ready to commit treason as I’ll ever be,” Karnak said with a weary sigh.

“Treason for a good cause,” said Triton.

The trio walked through the palace casually. There were hardly any servants or guards about; they were all distracted with the meeting.

The going got harder when they made it into the industrial area of the palace.

Karnak put out a hand, stopping his cousins in their tracks just as they were about to round the corner to the stairway leading down to the doors.

“What is it?” Triton hissed.

“Guards,” Karnak murmured. “Four of them.”

Gorgon squared his shoulders. “I’ll take care of this.”

“No,” Karnak said. “You’ll just attract attention to us. I’ll handle it.”

Gorgon scowled but accepted his words. He hung back as Karnak stepped around the corner.

The guards turned to the Inhuman stepped into view.

“What do you want?” asked one, tightening his grip on his gun.

“I’ve merely come to see my cousin one last time,” said Karnak, drawing nearer to the group. “He’s been sentenced to die.”

“No one is allowed to see the prisoner,” said the guard.

Karnak drew nearer, his brow furrowing. “On whose orders?”

“Crown Prince Maximus’.”

“But he is family,” Karnak argued, stopping just short of the guards.

“We cannot make exceptions.”

“As you say.” Karnak turned as if to leave, before turning in a complete circle and whacking the guard on the pressure point twixt the collarbone cleft. The guard crumpled with a soft moan.

The three remaining guards raised their guns, but Karnak was already on them. Ripping the gun from one, he kicked the unfortunate on the nerve behind the knee, sending him falling to the floor before the butt of the gun knocked him unconscious. The other two swiftly followed, they too being taken down by acute pressure point weaknesses.

Karnak aimed a blow at the gun just right, splitting it in half and rendering it useless. He did the same with the other three weapons.

“Is it safe?” Gorgon asked, poking his head around the corner.

Karnak beckoned them. “Come quickly!”

Gorgon and Triton stole down the hallway, stepping gingerly over the fallen bodies. The three of them hurried down the staircase, entering Blackagar’s chambers.

 

Crystal’s dress itched with an infuriating intensity, the yellow and black ruffles grating irritably against her skin. Her hands twitched, wanting to scratch desperately, but her parents were just behind her.

The Council members had already been greeted, and they sat in their seats. The only ones missing were Maximus and Medusa. Agon and Rynda stood stately and proud on the right of the dais, and Crystal couldn’t help but notice that the king lacked his usual cheer.

_Perhaps Maximus has done the same to him_ , Crystal wondered to herself.

All itching sensations were completely forgotten as Maximus and Medusa finally entered from off to the right. Crystal focused hard on her sister as they ascended the dais; there seemed to be no change in her stoic state. If her parents had noticed at all they did not seem concerned about it; they likely likened it to the emotionless expression a future queen was supposed to wear.

Maximus and Medusa took their place in between the two families, their hands linked together.

“Apologies for our latency,” Maximus said smoothly. “We may now begin.”

Crystal swallowed, shifting her feet nervously. She hoped her cousins were moving swiftly; after the meeting there was no turning away from a wedding.

 

_Ever since he could remember, his life was isolation._

Don’t speak, Blackagar. You must never speak. It is dangerous.

_Even when he was no older than a year and a half, he knew that when he spoke bad things happened when he made a noise. Everything was silence and isolation, a muzzle ever over his mouth save for when he ate, and only Agon and the nursemaids entered his chambers. He had all the toys and books any child could have wanted, but it was a lonely existence nonetheless._

_But when he was two and a half, a change came. One day his mother visited him, a smile on her face._

_“Blackagar,” said she, pressing a hand to her middle, “you will have a brother here soon.”_

_He was so ecstatic at the news he couldn’t stop himself from making a small noise behind his muzzle, causing the room to vibrate, but Rynda ignored it. She looked as happy as he felt._

_A few months later, he met his brother, Maximus Boltagon. He was so small, he saw, cradled in his mother’s arms. He wanted nothing more than to see his brother up close, but he was confined behind the glass. He couldn’t come out, but he loved his brother anyway, and suddenly his existence was less lonely than it had been before._

_Rynda and Agon still visited him often, but they brought Maximus often as well. They would hold him close to the glass so he could see, and he saw his brother’s bright blue eyes full of awe and loved him all the more._

_He watched his brother grow up behind glass, and he knew there would come a time when Maximus would question why things were the way they were._

_Maximus pressed a small hand to the glass. “Bwack.”_

_Blackagar touched his side of the glass in response._

_Maximus then turned back to their mother. “Go in!” He stabbed a stubby finger in his brother’s direction, making his intentions quite clear._

_Rynda sighed, glancing at Blackagar sympathetically. “No, Maximus. You can’t go in there with your brother. You must stay out here.”_

_Maximus stuck out his lower lip as far as it would go in a pronounced pout. “Why?”_

_Rynda sighed again, kneeling down to his level. “Your brother’s voice is dangerous, and that’s why he does not speak like you and me. It is better for you to stay out here where it is safe.”_

_Maximus looked back at Blackagar, his eyes full of tears. “But dat’s not fair!”_

_Blackagar couldn’t have agreed more. Life wasn’t fair._

_“It’s not fair you have to stay in there all the time, Black,” Maximus, age seven, sighed._

_Ten-year-old Blackagar dipped his head in agreement._ I agree, brother.

_“I wish we could do things like real brothers do. Play catch, go swimming in the sea, go to lessons together…” He cracked a smile. “Argue with each other, even.”_

_Blackagar smiled behind his muzzle at that. He too would give anything to have an argument with his brother, have a fistfight, anything beyond the confines of glass, training, and eternal silence._

_“Even so,” said Maximus, “I’m glad to have you as my brother, Black, and if I could change the way things were, I would do it.”_

_Blackagar’s heart was warmed by his words. He pressed a hand to the glass, and Maximus did likewise, a silent gesture of the love between the two of them._

_“Mother and Father say I’m ready to go through the Terrigen Mists,” said Maximus at age twelve. “They say I’ll go through them in two weeks.”_

_Blackagar could tell just by his brother’s posture and the movement of his hands that he was nervous, even though his tone was smooth as it always was._

_“I would ask you if it hurts, but that’s a useless question.” Maximus snorted. “I guess we’ll find out.”_

Don’t worry, _Blackagar conveyed to his brother._ You will be fine.

_“But what if it turns me into something completely different like what happened with Cousin Triton?” Maximus wondered worriedly. “Mother and Father say that every power is a gift, no matter what it is or what you look like, but I don’t want to look like a monster!”_

No matter what happens to you, you will always be my brother, Maximus.

_The two weeks that followed that conversation were exceedingly stressful, not only for Maximus but for Blackagar as well. No matter what reassurances he conveyed to his brother, Maximus couldn’t stop fretting over his Terrigenesis, and the stress began to rub off on Blackagar as well._

_The day finally came, and Maximus came to his brother’s chambers early in the morning before the sun had even begun to rise to visit him one last time. Blackagar could tell by his disheveled state and the dark rings under his eyes that he hadn’t slept a wink all night._

_“Today’s the day…” he whispered, his voice small and worried._

_All Blackagar could do was nod, looking over his brother with sympathy and worry. He had never been in such a state before, and it hurt him to see his brother suffering so, especially when he was powerless to do anything from comforting words to a hug._

_Maximus looked at him, and blue met blue. “Promise me that whatever happens to me…whatever I become, we’ll still be brothers. Please.”_

_Without hesitation, Blackagar pressed a hand to his chest then extended it outwards towards him._ I promise.

_Maximus pressed a hand to the glass. “Thank you.”_

_Blackagar pressed his hand over his brother’s.  No words were needed._

_The wait seemed to last an eternity for Blackagar, and when the rumble of the doors was finally heard, he sprung up like a spring coiled for release. To his joy and relief, he saw his brother was just as he was before; there had been no physical transformation in his Terrigenesis. His power would be internal, then, perhaps flight or healing; the possibilities were endless._

_But as soon as he saw Maximus’ face, he knew something was terribly wrong._

What happened?

_When Maximus looked at him, his eyes were glassy and shocked. “The Mists, they…they didn’t have any effect on me. I have no powers.”_

_It took Blackagar a long moment to process what he had just been told._ What?

_“The Mists didn’t change me. I’m the same as I was before I walked in.”_

Are you sure?

_“I tried everything, Black.” He shook his head despondently. “There’s nothing…no power. I am a disgrace to the Royal Family and the House of Agon.”_

_Blackagar stepped forward, placing a hand to the glass, but Maximus was already turning away. He could only watch in silence as his brother left the room, unable to call out to him or offer any words of comfort._

_And that was when he hated his silence the most, for after that day, the rift began to open between them._

_Maximus’ visits to his chambers decreased at an alarming rate. When he did show up, he hardly spoke, being almost as silent as he was. His posture was hunched, his eyes dull, and Blackagar could tell he barely slept._

_“I am a failure of the Royal Blood,” he whispered once. “A blemish.”_

_Blackagar shook his head vigorously._ No, Maximus. You aren’t.

_Maximus had shot a scowl his way. “I suppose you know what it feels like to be a failure, a disappointment. You have powers many of us only dream of.”_

_His words stung. Though it wasn’t the same as having no powers at all, Blackagar felt he could relate to him nonetheless. He was a failure in that he was so powerful, he was condemned to isolation. But he didn’t hold his brother’s words against him. He knew he was suffering, and he could see the anger and hurt in his eyes._

_After that, Maximus did not come back to visit for days, and the days eventually stretched into weeks._

_“He barely leaves his room,” Rynda fretted when Blackagar finally inquired of his whereabouts. “We have told him over and over again that he is no less an Inhuman or our son because of his Terrigenesis, but he doesn’t seem to listen.” Her shoulders sagged. “I can tell he doesn’t sleep much. I think he’s having nightmares.”_

_Blackagar worried as well, but there was nothing he could do._

_A month passed (or so Blackagar guessed) and the day finally came when the doors opened and Maximus walked in._

_Blackagar instantly saw the change in his brother. He stood straighter, he was well groomed, and despair no longer seemed to linger around him, but it was his eyes that had changed the most. Maximus had always been smart and cunning from the very beginning, ever since his mind was developed enough to understand making mischief, and Blackagar could always recognize the glint in his eyes when he was up to something. Now they possessed something else, a certain steeliness and shrewdness, as if he were always calculating the next move of those around him._

_The rift grew wider._

_Over time, Maximus began to form new opinions, ones that clashed severely with Blackagar’s, accompanied with jabs at his powers._

_“Would the people of Attilan accept you once they realize just how destructive your powers are?” he questioned. “Would they be satisfied with a king who can’t even speak his mind?”_

_His words nestled themselves deep in Blackagar’s heart, and after that he found himself wondering if his brother was right. The animosity only continued to grow as a result, and try as he might, Blackagar couldn’t understand why Maximus started taking out his ire on him. He understood his anger at his failed Terrigenesis, but the anger being directed towards him made him worried._

_He began to dread the times when Maximus would come. Gone were the times of brotherly bonding, replaced by argument and insult. Blackagar wondered why he even bothered to come anymore; perhaps he just enjoyed insulting him and his powers._

_“Sometimes I wonder why you just weren’t sent to the Pacifiers when you were born.”_

_Those words were the straw that broke the camel’s back for Blackagar. Upon hearing them, he had stalked up to the glass separating the two of them and stabbed a finger at the door, the message etched into the expression on his face._

Get out.

_Maximus had merely given him one final appraising look before walking out of his chambers, and their brotherhood._

 

The cousins found Blackagar unmoving on the floor of his bedchambers, a muzzle around his mouth and his hands bound.

“Is he…dead?” Triton voiced the question they were all thinking.

Karnak knelt, pressing two fingers to the prince’s neck. “No, just unconscious.” He started to inspect his cousin. “They must have given him something to make him sleep…ah!” He reached around to the back of his neck, his hand coming away with a little piece of technology.

Gorgon squinted at the object. “What is that?”

“Not sure,” Karnak murmured, inspecting the device himself. “Likely some sort of sedation device. It probably stopped his powers as well.”

Before they could question it further, there was a sharp inhale from the floor. Blackagar sat up, struggling, his eyes full of panic as his apparatus lit up.

“It’s us!” Karnak exclaimed, trying to keep them from being blasted as the air crackled with energy around them.

It took a moment, but the panic and confusion dimmed along with the energy in the air. Gorgon helped him to his feet and made to help him remove the cuffs, but Blackagar separated his fists and snapped them as if they were made of gossamer.

_What happened?_ he asked them mentally, forgoing signs as he sought to remove the muzzle.

“That’s what we were wondering,” said Triton. “You’ve probably been asleep for at least three days, and now Medusa…”

_Medusa?_ The mental exclamation rang loudly through their minds. _Where is she? Is she safe?_

“We think Maximus has some sort of control over her, and right now there is a meeting to decide the betrothal between them.”

Blackagar tore off the muzzle, his face twisting with hurt and betrayal. _Maximus has done this?_

“It seems that way,” said Karnak grimly.

Blackagar threw the muzzle onto the floor. His heel came down and twisted, and the object splintered with a resounding _crack_.

_If this is true, I will have words with him._

 

The guards were not prepared for Blackagar.

The prince entered into the main section of the palace, his cousins in his wake. His apparatus crackled with blue lightning, the air around him vibrating and snapping. He was on his way to the Throne Room, and nothing would stop him.

When the guards saw him coming, they raised their guns. “Halt!” He did not, and they opened fire. Blackagar threw up his hands, the charged air solidifying into a shield that the blasts ricocheted off, some returning to strike their owners. His cousins came behind, Gorgon raising a hoof and stomping, sending seismic waves pulsing through the ground and upending the guards. Those that remained conscious were swiftly knocked out cold by Karnak and Triton, and Blackagar let his arms and the shield fall.

He continued onwards toward Medusa.

 

Crystal fidgeted anxiously. Agon and Rynda had said their pieces, bestowing their blessings upon the betrothal albeit devoid of emotion. Now Maximus was stepping forward again, ready to give his speech on the benefits of their betrothal. If something didn’t happen soon…

Maximus cleared his throat. “Council members—” He was interrupted as the doors at the far end of the hall burst open, and a very scared looking guard hurried in. Hope rose in Crystal’s chest.

“Crown Prince,” said the guard, “your brother is coming.”

 


	27. Chapter 27

Though she could not show it outwardly, Medusa’s heart sang at the news. _Yes, save me please!_

Something akin to fear flashed across Maximus’ face. “And are you not trying to stop him?”

“We are,” said the guard. “He will not be stopped.”

“Get every guard you can out there,” said Maximus. “Call the Pacifiers.”

Crystal stiffened.

“Yes, my lord.” The guard hurried back the way he came.

Maximus directed his attention to Ambur and Quelin, his face becoming a cool mask again. “My lord and lady, please take Crystalia and return to your chambers as quickly as possible. Do not come out until someone comes to get you.”

“What about Medusa?” Ambur fretted.

“My brother is likely coming for her. She will be safer with me.”

Ambur nodded hesitantly. “Alright.”

Crystal turned to her mother. “But—”

“Don’t argue with the Crown Prince,” said Ambur, grabbing her hand. “He knows what’s best. Now come, we must leave before he gets here.”

Crystal cast a final despairing look at her sister before she was dragged off in the opposite direction.

 

Blackagar ducked behind a corner as gunfire whistled by, bursting against the far wall. He waited, listening, as the three guards drew near to their position, waiting until they were almost upon them before jumping out and snatching the gun from the hands of one, clubbing him over the head. Gorgon grabbed the other and threw him into the remaining guard, sending them tumbling head over heels to the ground.

“Almost there,” Karnak murmured as they stole through the halls.

Blood pounded through Blackagar’s head, energy surging through him with every beat of his heart. The air around him was so electrified his cousins maintained a few feet’s distance in order to avoid the uncomfortable sensation of charged air. Caution and secrecy were the last things on his mind; they would only slow him down.

The doors to the Throne Room came into view, and Blackagar increased his speed. He was so caught up that he disregarded Karnak’s calls of warning. The door may or may not have been unlocked; he didn’t care. The charged energy in the air centered in his fist, and without missing a step he struck the doors with all his might. They blew open with a shuddering crash, nearly ripping off the hinges. He stepped into the room only to freeze.

Medusa and Maximus were nowhere to be seen. Instead, several scores of guards stood with guns trained upon him, and in the midst of them were the Pacifiers.

 

Medusa’s legs moved not of their own accord, hurrying her farther away from her savior. Even so, Maximus kept a painfully tight grip on her hand, practically dragging her along as if he were afraid she might escape from his clutches.

Agon and Rynda came along behind them, neither saying a word about the predicament or throwing out any orders to the guards around them. They seemed to take Maximus’ words as the best course of action and went along silently.

They were going into a new section of the palace, one Medusa had never seen before. They descended a long flight of stairs and hurried down a large, long hall. The guards ahead of them punched in a code on a huge set of metallic doors and they opened with a deep rumble.

“Stay behind,” Maximus told them. “Just in case he comes.”

They obeyed without a word.

Medusa was pulled through the large doors into the palace hangar. Many ships of Attilanian design decked the length of the enormous room. The hangar door—consisting of the entirety of the right wall—was already open. The hangar sat on the edge of a cliff, and Medusa could faintly see the spires of the city in the distance below them.

“Get in,” Maximus ordered, dragging her to a sleek jet-like craft. She obeyed, but not before she caught a glimpse of his face. His expression was a façade of regality, but he could not hide the fear lingering in his eyes. Medusa smiled inwardly as she ascended the ramp into the craft.

“Initiate flight protocols,” he snapped at Agon.

Agon went to the pilot’s seat, beginning to flip switches. The ramp lifted, and they were sealed inside the craft.

Medusa watched the proceedings worriedly. _Come quickly, Blackagar!_

 

The Pacifiers were cloaked in white, their faces hidden behind overlong cowls. Dread radiated from them like an aura, for they were the death of Inhumanity incarnate. Blackagar felt his throat close up in sheer terror. The threat of his childhood stood realized in front of him.

“Blackagar, be care…” Karnak’s warning trailed off as he entered the room.

A gun went off, and Blackagar flung up his arms, the shield solidifying in front of him, protected him and his cousins. Bullets bounced and rebounded, but before he could make another move, the Pacifiers stretched forth their gray, talon-like hands.

Blackagar expected to be struck dead on the spot, but nothing happened. He was left wondering for a moment until the pained cries of his cousins reached his ears. He turned his head slightly and saw his cousins clutching at their heads, forced to their knees by some invisible force. He wanted to go to them, but he couldn’t risk letting down the shield as the hail of bullets continued.

Then he felt it.

The grotesque claws of the Pacifiers began forcing their way into his mind. His telepathic barriers were strong, but they were stronger. They latched onto his mind like sucking leeches and began to drain him of his power.

 Blackagar felt his strength begin to leave him, burning away like a piece of paper set alight. He began to feel the agony as the very essence of his DNA, his Inhumanity, was stripped slowly but surely stripped away. His arms faltered, and with them his shield. A bullet broke through, just barely missing him and punching into the wall behind. The agonized cries of his cousins rang loud like a dirge in his ears.

 _This is how I die_ , he thought as the agony increased. The shield faltered longer this time. _I’m sorry, Medusa._

He could not save her, he realized. They were at the end; Maximus had won whatever twisted game he invented…unless he did something he had promised never to do. The thought struck him like a lightning bolt and sent his thoughts racing. It was dangerous, but it was his last option, his final gambit.

The shield was almost gone. The agony had almost overpowered him, and his vision was growing dim. The cries of his cousins had ceased altogether. It was now or never.

His apparatus lit up with a new light, a brighter light than before. He inhaled through his mouth, his power gathering. The guards heard the sound of his inhale and faltered in their fire. They saw his mouth opening, but they were too late.

Blackagar let the shield fall away, his lips moving in the smallest whisper.

“ **no more**.”

The hall exploded in the thunder of his voice.

 

Crystal paced the length of her room, fidgeting anxiously. Lockjaw saw her worry and whined, coming to nuzzle his companion.

She paused her pacing to scratch him between the ears with a sigh. “Medusa’s in big trouble.”

Lockjaw snuffled and pointed his massive snout in the direction of her parents’ room.

“They wouldn’t believe us,” she said forlornly. “Maximus has already convinced them the betrothal is a good idea.”

He gave her hand a comforting lick and settled down on the floor.

“Thank you,” she murmured, sitting down with him. She rested her head against his side, taking comfort in the steady cadence of his breathing. If anything, her cousins would save her sister. She trusted them.

_BOOM._

Powerful vibrations rocked the room, sending a vase crashing to the floor. Crystal leapt upright, grabbing onto Lockjaw for balance. After a moment the vibrations ceased, and everything went deathly silent.

“What was that?” Crystal breathed, her heart pounding in her ears.

Lockjaw growled, his hackles rising.

“They might be hurt,” she murmured, steeling her resolve. “We have to get to them.” She placed a hand on Lockjaw’s shoulder. “Take me to my cousins!”

They vanished in a flash.

 

Blackagar peeled open his eyes. Beyond his forcefield, the dust was clearing, allowing a good look at the destruction. The dais and the back wall of the hall were completely obliterated, a gaping hole to the outside in place of where they once stood. Bits and pieces of stone still fell from the walls and ceiling, clattering loudly on the floor in the silence. Huge chunks of marble and metal littered the floor in heaping piles, and several pillars were halfway, if not completely shattered. It was a wonder the ceiling still stood.

Tentatively he allowed the shield to fall, straightening from where he crouched over his cousins. They were beginning to stir, groaning and rubbing at their heads. He looked around the room. There was no sign of the Pacifiers or any guards. They were likely buried beneath the mountains of rubble.

A _whoosh_ broke the silence, and Blackagar spun around, his apparatus flaring, ready to blast the intruder.

“Wait!” Triton’s call broke off into coughing. “Wait, Blackagar! It’s Crystal!”

He looked back at the girl, who regarded him with huge eyes. Now that he paused, he recognized the girl he had seen waving to Medusa at the Christening, and with her was who he assumed to be Lockjaw.

“What happened?” she whispered, looking all around the room.

“He spoke,” Gorgon grunted, rising to his hooves.

“Spoke?” Crystal gasped, fear flickering across her face.

Blakagar winced slightly.

“With good reason,” Gorgon added. “He had no choice.”

“What are you doing here?” Karnak asked, still massaging his temples.

“I felt it,” she said. “I had to make sure you were alright.”

“We are,” said Triton. “Thanks to Blackagar?”

 _Medusa?_ Blackagar asked her mentally.

Crystal started at the voice in her head but did not question it. “I-I don’t know where she went. All I know is that Maximus took her.”

There was a moment of silence as they considered where Medusa might be. The silence was then broken by the sound of an aircraft nearby. They all turned to look at the hole in the wall, and saw a sleek craft in the distance.

“A royal craft,” Karnak murmured. “That must be them.”

Blackagar clenched his fists, ready to fly off, but Gorgon interrupted. “Wait! That craft is probably armed to the teeth, and Maximus has Agon and Rynda which means they know how to work it. You would be shot down a mile away.”

Blackagar set his jaw, watching as the craft drifted from their field of view.

“I could get us closer on the ground,” Crystal offered quietly. “I don’t know how well it will work but we can try.”

Blackagar needed no second bidding. _We’ll do it._

Crystal nodded. “Alright. Everyone put their hands on Lockjaw.”

They all gathered around the Inhuman dog, holding on to his fur. Crystal put her hand on his forehead and said, “Take us closer to that aircraft.”

There was a whooshing sensation, and suddenly they were no longer standing in the ruins of the Throne Room but on the opposite side of Attilan, standing near a cliff edge that dropped straight into the sea. Behind them was the city and the palace, shining in the sunlight.

“Where is it?” Triton asked, looking up at the empty blue sky.

“There!” Crystal said excitedly, pointing.

The cliffs continued on for some distance, bending in a cove before coming back out. The aircraft was near the opposite side of the cove, difficult to miss in amongst the natural landscape.

“What’s it doing?” Crystal asked, her voice taking on a tone of confusion.

Karnak squinted. “It looks like it’s—”

“No!” Gorgon yelled.

Blackagar went numb when he saw the aircraft making a nosedive straight towards the rocky cliffs. It was going so fast and so high up, there would surely be no survivors.

Crystal screamed.

He sprang into action, sprinting in the direction of the cove, but no one could have been quick enough. The ship crashed into the cliffside with a deafening _BOOM_ , and exploded in fire.


	28. Chapter 28

The craft took to the air, and Medusa’s stomach turned. The only time she had ever liked being airborne was when Blackagar held her, and even then she didn’t prefer it.

Maximus’ shoulders relaxed slightly once they were in the air. “He can’t follow us here,” he murmured to himself. “We can shoot him down before he reaches us.”

She wanted nothing more than to break free and grab him, shake him, beat him, but she could only sit and be still.

“Worry not, my love,” said he, turning to her. “We will be free of him soon.”

_I’m not the one that’s worried._

In what she could see out the window of the craft, the spires of Attilan were zooming by at an alarming rate. Maximus paced the floor, every now and then running a hand through his hair.

_Where are you, Blackagar?_

Almost as if in response to her silent plea, the sound of an explosion was heard over the noise of the engines. Something like turbulence rocked the craft, and Medusa nearly fell over, unable to steady herself by her own will.

“What was that?” Maximus cried frantically, stumbling forward to where Agon maneuvered the craft. “Turn us around!”

Agon twisted the controls sharply, sending them spinning around to face the opposite direction. Now through the window Medusa could see the Royal Palace rising in the distance, and the dust surrounding a huge hole in one of the walls.

“That must be him,” Maximus muttered. “Quickly, get us out of here!”

Agon jerked the controls in the opposite direction, sending Medusa stumbling into the wall. She wracked her brain. What could Blackagar have done to wreak such destruction? Unless…

“The Pacifiers will hold him. They must.” Maximus spun on his heel, starting back in her direction. Medusa steeled herself, waiting for him to manipulate her into some falsified action of love and commitment, but it never came, because Maximus froze in his step, staring at her. No, not her, something _behind_ her.

“How did you get in here?” Maximus screeched, his eyes wide and full of terror. “How did you escape?”

Medusa couldn’t turn her head to see what was behind her, but it certainly didn’t feel like there was anyone there.

“Run this ship into the ground!” Maximus screamed, never taking his eyes off the thing he saw.

The ship tipped downwards as Agon obeyed. Medusa slid forward, panic shooting through her. No, no! What are you doing?”

Maximus laughed a sick, depraved laugh that made Medusa tremble inwardly. “If you’ve come to take her, brother, then neither of us will have her!”

Medusa could feel a twinge in her mind. Consumed in whatever madness had overtaken him, Maximus’ powers were beginning to weaken their hold on her mind. If only she could move her hand, reach up, and get the whistle…

They hurtled downwards at a sickening speed that grew every second.

Medusa’s fingers twitched of their own accord. _Come on, please!_

“Finally, you will die as you should have the day you were born!” Maximus yelled over the sound of wind and engines. “Finally—” His face went blank. Medusa watched in surprise and horror as he crumpled to the floor.

Rynda lowered the toolbox she had used to knock out her son, letting it crash to the floor.

Medusa gasped, released from his hold. The cliffs were coming up fast. Her hands shot up to the whistle concealed in a knot in her hair, and she blew it. Suddenly Lockjaw was there, whining and confused about the sudden change of environment. She dove forward, wrapping an arm around his neck.

“Get us—”

A hand fell into her own. She looked down and saw Maximus’ hand in her own. Then she looked up into the eyes of Rynda, and they were clearer than they had ever been.

“Tell my sons I loved them both, no matter what they did.” She looked at Lockjaw. “Go.”

They vanished from the ship just as it crashed against the cliffs.

 

“No!” Crystal screamed, and she ran forward, but Gorgon grabbed her and lifted her bodily off the ground.

“Let me go!” she shrieked, hitting and kicking at him with all her might. “Let me go! My sister is in there!”

Blackagar opened his mouth in a silent scream. His apparatus flared, and the air around him in a ten-foot radius exploded with energy. Karnak, who was unfortunate enough to be standing in the blast radius, was knocked flat on his back. He made no sound, but they all heard the exclaimation of pain in his mind.

**_No!_ **

Before anyone could find the words to respond, he was gone, taking off towards the flaming wreckage at breakneck speed.

“Brother!” Triton ran to Karnak’s side. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes, don’t worry about me!” Karnak said, rising to his feet.

Triton set his jaw, looking from his brother to the flaming wreckage in the distance. “I have to help him.”

“I don’t think—” Karnak’s protests were too late. Triton ran to the edge and jumped right off the edge, performing an expert dive into the water far below.

“Let me go!” Crystal sobbed, still struggling. “I have to help them!”

“No!” Gorgon snarled, keeping his grip firm. “We can’t lose you too!”

Then there was a whoosh behind them. Gorgon and Karnak turned around and froze in shock. There stood Medusa, clinging to Lockjaw with one arm and half-holding an unconscious Maximus in the other. For a long moment no one said anything, and it was Crystal who broke the stunned silence.

“Medusa!” she cried, ripping herself free from Gorgon’s grasp. She ran to her sister, and Medusa let go of both Lockjaw and Maximus, catching her up in her arms.

“What happened?” she asked, mystified at her sister sobbing hysterically in her arms.

“We thought you were dead!” Crystal gasped in between sobs.

“You did?” Medusa looked at her cousins, who were still in a state of shock.

“Y-yes,” Karnak said. “We saw the ship crash into the cliffs.”

“Oh no.” Medusa let go of Crystal and moved closer to the edge of the cliff. Some of the wreckage had fallen onto the thin strip of sand below the cliffs, black smoke and flames billowing into the air, while a majority had fell into the sea, jutting from the water in the shallows.

She whirled around. “Where’s Blackagar?”

 

He tore through the wreckage, lifting huge pieces of metal as if they weighed nothing. Sweat poured down his face from the heat of the fire, but he ignored it. He had to find her. She couldn’t be dead. She just _couldn’t_ be.

He was vaguely aware that Triton was somewhere nearby, looking through the submerged wreckage, and he prayed he would hear his voice call out that he had found her.

 _There’s no way,_ his rational side whispered. _There’s no way she could have survived this._

“Blackagar!”

He desperation was so great, he could still hear her voice calling his name in his mind out of sheer hope that it was real, but he knew it wasn’t. he pushed aside a sparking piece of circuitry. _There’s no way._

“Blackagar!”

A hand touched his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off, grabbing at another chunk of metal. His eyes watered, though whether it was from the smoke or true tears, he could not say.

The hand tugged, persistent, and in a burst of anger, he whirled around, his teeth bared. Triton ignored his anger and pointed upwards. “Look!”

Blackagar looked up.

“Blackagar! I’m up here!”

High, on the edge of the cliff far above them, he could see a familiar shock of red hair peering down at them, barely visible through the haze of smoke.

 _Medusa!_ He shot upwards, breaking through the smoke and into fresh air.

Medusa gasped, stepping backwards as Blackagar appeared in a burst of wind. His feet touched the ground, and as soon as he saw her standing there, whole, unscathed, _alive_ , he knew the truth: he loved her.

“Blackagar—” Whatever she was about to say was cut off as he enveloped her in a fierce hug, knocking the air out of her lungs. She could feel his breath on her ear, sharp and shuddering. His chest heaved, and she realized he was trying not to cry.

“It’s alright,” she said, her throat closing up. “It’s alright.”

They stayed that way for a small eternity, and when Blackagar finally pulled away, she didn’t want him to. He took her face in his hands, his thumbs running over her cheeks over and over again. She saw the tear tracks on his face and the redness in his eyes.

 _Agon?_ he asked. _Rynda?_

She shook her head as best she could while he still held her face. “No, they—” Her voice cracked. “There wasn’t enough time.” She choked on a sob. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled her to him again, running his fingers through her hair. _It’s alright._

“Your brother,” she murmured into his chest, “he lives.”

She felt his muscles tense. She turned her head to look at his face, and his jaw was clenched. The hair on her arms raised as the air charged.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she told him.

“Blackagar?”

He looked up, for the first time acknowledging the others that stood nearby. Gorgon, Karnak, and Crystal all stood waiting.

“Are you alright?” Karnak continued.

He nodded, switching back to signs. _Are you?_

“We are,” said Karnak. “I think it’s your brother we should worry about.”

Gorgon turned aside, revealing Maximus’ body lying crumpled on the ground. Lockjaw sat next to him, watching him for any sign of movement.

Blackagar scowled at the sight of his brother, leaving Medusa’s side and walking over to his still form. He crouched down, checking his pulse, then turning his head. He frowned at the sight of the bleeding gash on the side of his head, then turned back to the others.

 _What happened?_ he signed.

“Rynda hit him,” Medusa said, wiping away some stray tears. “When he was knocked out, it gave me enough time to summon Lockjaw and get out.”

_Why did you bring him?_

“Rynda wanted me to,” she said quietly. “She’d been under his control the whole time. She always loved you, Blackagar. Maximus made her that way, until…until the end.”

He shut his eyes and bowed his head, unable to convey anything besides heartbreak.

“She wanted me to tell you that she loved you, and your brother.”

He did not raise his head, but still signed. _Even after everything he did to her?_

“Yes,” Medusa whispered.

“Your parents died a valiant death,” said Karnak. “They will be remembered in the annals of Attilan forever.”

Blackagar slowly rose to his feet, casting a disdainful look at his brother.

“What will we do now?” Gorgon asked, and paused before adding, “King Blackagar.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide. _What?_

“You are the king now,” said Karnak.

He shook his head. _No, no. I can’t be._

“You are,” Karnak pressed.

“Stop it,” Medusa hissed, interlacing her fingers with his. “We’re already going through enough as it is. That’s the last thing we need to think about right now.”

“Well, what do we do?” Gorgon repeated. “We have to do something.”

Blackagar heaved a silent sigh, and his hands moved again. _We wait for Maximus to wake up._

 

Maximus came to slowly. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was his brother’s face glaring down at him.

“You can’t be real,” he muttered. “You’re…you’re just an illusion.”

Blackagar grabbed him by his shirt, hauling him upright. He drew back a fist and cracked Maximus across the face. _Does that feel like an illusion_? he snarled mentally, shaking him like a ragdoll.

“What happened?”

In response, Blackagar dragged him over to the edge of the cliff. Maximus screamed as his body was forced out over the edge, his brother’s hold on his clothes the only thing keeping him from falling. Far below, tiny figures of Inhuman workers swarmed over the wreckage that still smoked slightly.

 _See that?_ Blackagar conveyed. _You did that._

“H-how did I survive?” Maximus asked, struggling in an attempt to get himself back over the edge, but Blackagar’s arm was immovable.

 _You have our mother and Medusa to thank for that_. Blackagar yanked him backwards away from the cliff. _And because of you, our mother and father are dead._

Maximus’ eyes widened. “They are?”

Blackagar did not reply, but his eyes narrowed and his apparatus crackled dangerously.

Maximus swallowed, his face hurting with the movement. “Then…then will you kill me?”

_I am very tempted._

A comforting hand touched his arm, and a tendril of hair wrapped around his shoulders. “Blackagar,” Medusa murmured, “remember what I told you.”

He inhaled deeply, steadying himself. _Fortunately for you, Medusa has revealed to me the true nature of your powers. The Terrigen Mists gave you great power, but it also gave you madness. You are out of your mind, brother._

“I’m not out of my mind,” Maximus snarled. “My mind is clearer than it ever has been.”

_Don’t even try to use your powers. Your own technology has come in use._

Maximus sneered. “So now that our parents are dead, will you now be king?”

Blackagar paused. _Yes._

Maximus looked over at Medusa, who stood slightly behind Blackagar. “Would you really choose him over me, my love?”

Blackagar shifted, protectively placing himself in between them. _She is not your love._

“But she is. She told me how she loved me many times, likely more times than she’ll ever tell you.”

Blackagar, thoroughly fed up, hit Maximus over the head, knocking him out cold again. He pushed his brother into the waiting hands of the guards who had stood waiting nearby.

“Take him to the dungeons,” said Medusa, translating his signs.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Blackagar watched as his brother was dragged off. Finally, when they vanished into the streets of Attilan, he turned away, focusing his eyes on the sunset on the horizon. Medusa came to his side, and for a long time nothing was said.

 _Your parents probably want to see you,_ Blackagar signed at last. _You should go to them._

“Crystal is with them,” she replied quietly, her hair turning to shimmering flame in the light of the sunset. “She’ll tell them what happened. I want to stay with you for now.”

_You don’t have to._

“It’s not good for you to be alone now.”

She was right, he realized. Had he been alone, he might have succumbed to the temptation to speak his brother into oblivion, and if not that, beat him within an inch of his life.

_Did you love him?_

Medusa huffed. “No. He made me say I loved him. I hated it. I hated it when he made me…” Her voice faltered, and Blackagar looked down at her, panic shooting through him.

 _Did he…touch you?_ he signed haltingly.

“No,” she breathed, her face flushing.

Blackagar sagged with relief.

“He…he made me kill a man, a servant who heard me screaming.” Her chin trembled a little. “All he wanted to do was help me, and I killed him. I felt his life end, and I couldn’t…”

Blackagar took her into his arms, his stomach twisting with horror and anger. _Shh. It’s not your fault_.

“I murdered him, Blackagar.”

He took her chin, gently lifting her face to look into her eyes. _You are not a murderer,_ _Medusa. He made you do it._

She sniffed. “He deserves a proper burial.”

He brushed away the tears on her face. _We’ll get him one, I promise._

Medusa nodded, swallowing hard. “Before Maximus overtook me, he asked me if I loved him.”

Blackagar tilted his head. _But you didn’t love him._

“I know, and I told him as much. Then…” She faltered again, unsure if she should continue, but pressed on anyway. “Then he asked me if I loved you.”

Blackagar stared at her, his expression unreadable.

“I said yes,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She could hardly stand to look at him, her heart pounding wildly.

For what seemed like an eternity, he just stood there, but then his face cracked open into a smile despite the tragedy of the day. He signed something, and even though she had never seen the signs before, she knew what they meant.

_I love you._

She exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and she felt like she could cry again. She smiled, and he tilted his head down, resting his forehead against hers. Her hair wrapped around him in a hug, and the ache of sadness in both their hearts faded just a little.


	29. Chapter 29

The very next day, Blackagar announced his parents’ death to all of Attilan.

He and Medusa stood on the balcony of the palace, while the Inhumans gathered in the courtyard below. Even from there he could see the apprehension of the faces of his subjects. They were worried about the future of their city, and the destructive power of their king-to-be.

“I’m sure you’re all aware of the ship that crashed into the cliffs yesterday,” Medusa said, her voice carrying over the congregation. He was proud of her—she stood tall and noble at his side, persevering despite all she had been through. “I am sorry to say that my parents were on that ship. They did not survive.”

Worried murmurs broke out below them, but Blackagar forced himself to continue despite the stabbing pain of grief in his chest.

“I know you’re all apprehensive about my powers, and rightfully so, but what happened at the Christening was not my fault. My brother, Maximus, was given powers by the Terrigen Mists—powers of mind control—which he kept hidden from everyone and used against me and my family. His Terrigenesis made him mad, and his madness he thought I was his enemy. The result of that was my parents’ premature death, but I will do everything I can to restore his mind to what it once was, for he is still my brother.”

His hands paused as he let the words sink in.

“Additionally, I wish to make it known that I slew the Pacifiers.”

Gasps and shocked cries greeted the statement.

“I did not do such a thing willingly. My brother had set them upon me while I attempted to save my betrothed. It is just as well, as I want no Inhuman to fear what Terrigenesis and the aftermath will bestow upon them as I had to.”

More murmuring.

“Three days from now, the King and Queen will be buried. Every citizen of Attilan is invited to attend if they wish.”

With that, Blackagar turned on his heel, offering his arm to Medusa. She took it, and they entered the palace together, leaving the Inhumans to wonder at their new leaders.

 

True to his word, the funeral was three days later. It was held in the crypts beneath the Tower of Wisdom. All of the Royal Family came, including Mander, Azur, Korath, and Milena. Additionally, it seemed that the citizens of Attilan had taken up Blackagar’s offer. The room where the royals were buried was packed to the point of bursting.

Blackagar stood between the two ornate coffins as the ceremony went on. He was glad he could not see what lay inside; only bits of charred remains had been found according to what the workers had told him. The rest of the Royal Family stood off to one side, watching the proceedings somberly.

When the priest finished speaking, it was Blackagar’s turn. Traditionally, the heir to the dead royals would speak words of blessing to his or her parents before the coffins were interred, but he signed his blessings instead of speaking. Then he stepped away from the coffins, feeling his eyes grow hot as the servants hurried forward, lifting them and moving forward to place them in the crypts prepared for them.

After that, the body of the brave servant Halis was interred in a different room, reserved for the most courageous of Inhumans.

“He died trying to protect his queen,” said the priest. “There is no nobler death.”

The Royal Family left first, the crowd parting the way for them. Medusa took Blackagar’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze as they walked. He swallowed, his throat feeling tight.

“Are you doing alright?” she asked as they left the Tower.

 _As well as I can be_ , he signed.

“It will get better,” she murmured. “I promise.”

Blackagar paused as he felt someone tug at his hand. He looked over, and saw Medusa’s little sister standing there.

“Er, hello Prince—King Blackagar,” Crystal said, curtsying awkwardly. “We haven’t officially met yet. I am Crystalia Amaquelin, Medusa’s sister, but you can call me Crystal.” She paused, her cheeks reddening. “Oh, I guess you wouldn’t call me that. Forgive me, my king.”

Blackagar smiled, his mood lifting. She shared the same awkwardness Medusa had when they first met. He crouched down to her level and signed a greeting.

Crystal looked at Medusa expectantly. “What did he say?”

“He said: hello, future sister.”

Crystal looked back and forth between the two of them. “So you are still going to get married?”

Medusa shrugged and smiled. “As far as I know.”

Crystal smiled brightly. “Oh, that’s wonderful, my king! So I suppose you love him, Medusa?”

“Yes,” she said, flushing a little. “I love him.”

Blackagar smiled wider and signed something else.

“What was that?”

“He said to just call him Blackagar.”

Crystal blinked, looking back at him. “Alright, Blackagar. Can I tell you a secret?”

He nodded.

She leaned up to whisper in his ear. “I’m glad you’re marrying her. She loves you a lot!”

“Crystal!” Medusa scolded, overhearing her words.

Blackagar shook his head in amusement and signed, _I’m glad, because I love her a lot, too._

 

A week after that, Medusa had her first night terror.

She dreamed she was killing Halis again, his life ebbing away beneath her clutches while she was powerless to stop it. She woke in the dark, breathing hard, her heart beating so loudly in her ears that she didn’t hear when Blackagar entered the room. She almost screamed when she saw the dark figure moving towards her bed, but then she recognized the figure. He sat down on the edge of her bed, and neither of them said or signed a word as he drew her into his arms.

Medusa leaned against his shoulder, her shuddering breath slowly evening. He was wearing nightclothes, the fabric soft against her cheek. She breathed in his scent, familiar and real and comforting. It had only been a dream.

“You didn’t have to come,” she whispered, her voice sounding loud in the quiet dark of her room. “You didn’t have to…”

A hand, ungloved and warm, touched her lips, silencing her. _I wanted to_. Lips touched her hair, and he held her close.

She fell asleep at some point, and she woke up the next morning to an empty room. Her door was ajar, however, signaling easy access if he needed to return.

Some nights were worse than others. Sometimes she didn’t dream at all, but when she did, he was there mere minutes after she woke up, holding until she fell asleep.

 

The next months were ones of healing. Blackagar healed from the deaths of his parents, and Medusa healed from the overtaking of her mind. He began to take on the responsibilities of the king, his days often taken up with meetings, and Medusa was by his side the entire time. When he felt overwhelmed with all the responsibilities that had fallen upon him, she was there to comfort him. When she dreamed of pain and death, he came to be with her.

“You must marry soon, my king,” said a council member one day. “Attilan must have its king and queen.”

Blackagar glanced at Medusa. He sat on the throne in the recently repaired Throne Room, and she stood by his side, her hair curling over the back and armrests.

“I must remind you, my king, that you are no longer obligated to marry the Lady Amaquelin as per your parents’ wishes. You may choose any eligible maiden of pure blood if you wish.”

Blackagar inhaled sharply, and he signed rapidly.

“I will have Medusa, and her alone,” Medusa translated.

“Of course, my king,” the council member said weakly. “I was merely making it known to you as an option. You must be married soon, then.”

“Very well. It shall be done.”

 

_Are you ready to get married?_

Medusa bit her lip. “We have waited a while.”

_I can stay the Council if you’re not ready._

“No.” She shook her head. “We’ve waited long enough.”

 _Do you want to marry me?_ His hands faltered. _You are no longer obligated to marry me if you don’t wish to._

Medusa smacked his arm lightly. “Don’t be stupid. Of course I want to marry you.”

Blackagar grinned and kissed her forehead. _Just checking._

 

The wedding went into preparation not long after, and during that time, Blackagar finally worked up the nerve to look upon Maximus for the first time since that fateful day.

He stepped down into the area where Maximus was being contained. Beyond the electrical forcefield that was the wall of the cell, he could see his brother lying with his back towards the door on his bed. Blackagar had made sure he wouldn’t be uncomfortable; he had given him a nice bed, books to read, and he was served food from the palace kitchens still.

_Brother._

For a moment there was no response, and Blackagar wondered if he was asleep before he spoke. “Finally come to see me after all this time, have you?”

_I have._

Maximus stirred, rolling over. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, which still held that mad glint. “I thought you would come sooner.”

Blackagar tried not to feel guilty. _I did not want to be angry with you when I spoke with you._

He rose, stepping towards the forcefield. “I didn’t mean to kill them.”

_I know._

“But you were there in that ship, and you were going to kill me. I had to do something.”

Blackagar shook his head. _You were hallucinating, and you know it._

“Yes,” Maximus murmured. “I was.” He paused. “Are you going to marry Medusa?”

_Yes, in three weeks._

He looked him in the eyes, and in that moment, the glint of madness was gone. “Be the husband she deserves, brother.”

Surprised, Blackagar nodded, but as soon as the madness disappeared it had returned. _I will get you help. I will end the madness that plagues you._

“I don’t need help,” Maximus sneered.

Blackagar felt the ache of sadness swell in his chest. _Yes, you do._

Maximus huffed and did not say anything further. Blackagar stepped forwards until he stood just beyond the forcefield. He extended his hand and pressed it against the forcefield, and he suddenly became aware of just how opposite their lives had become in a matter of months. He was the one walking free, and his brother was locked away.

Maximus stared at the hand, once the symbol of their brotherhood.  His fingers twitched, and hope rose in Blackagar that he might return the gesture, but he merely turned his back, signaling the end of the conversation. Blackagar let his hand drop, and he turned to go.

_Goodbye, brother._

 

They were married—and crowned—by the sea, on the beach where Blackagar had flown them into the sky.

Blackagar was dressed in a black suit with the signature white stripes running down the front. A cape of black with white lining ran down his back, pooling around his feet. His cowl was forgone; instead he wore a circlet on his brow with a smaller version of the apparatus. He looked regal and dignified, but Medusa was the one who stole the show.

There was no need for a wedding train; her hair served that purpose just as well. Her gown was one of lightest purple, off-the-shoulder sleeves showing off her slender shoulders. Transparent jewels dotted her bodice and the ends of her sleeves, causing every movement to glitter. Her long skirt fluttered in the wind, making her seem like she was gliding down to where Blackagar stood. Despite that, the most radiant thing about her was her smile, which seemed to outshine the sun, and Blackagar could not take his eyes off of her.

Gorgon sniffled a little, and Triton elbowed him in the side. Blackagar could not choose just one of his cousins for a groomsman, so he chose all three. Crystal stood opposite them in a yellow and black dress full of ruffles as Medusa’s one and only bridesmaid, and she stifled a giggle at Gorgon’s emotions as Medusa came to stand beside Blackagar.

Medusa smiled as she met Blackagar’s eyes, and he smiled back, his heart filling with joy.

The ceremony seemed to pass by in a blur, and the next thing they knew, they were saying their vows.

“Do you, Blackagar Boltagon of the House of Agon, take this woman to be your wife and queen for as long as you live?”

He looked her in the eyes as he signed, _I do._

“And do you, Medusalith Amaquelin of the House of Quelin, take this man to be your husband and king for as long as you live?”

“I do,” she said, her voice shaky with emotion. It seemed like an eternity ago that she was dreading having to say those words to a man she did not know, but now she couldn’t wait to get them out.

The rings were exchanged, each emblazoned with the symbol of the House of Agon.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, and king and queen of Attilan.”

The next thing Medusa knew, Blackagar had taken her face in his hands and kissed her. She kissed back, feeling the warmth of his lips on hers for the first—but definitely not the last—time. The crowd exploded into cheers.

They drew apart, and Medusa exhaled, unable to stop smiling. “My king.”

 _My queen_ , he signed. He took her hand, and they both turned to face the crowd. At last, he was married to her. His heart swelled with love, a love that was more than words would ever be able to express. They stood together as king and queen as the cheers of the people rose into the sky.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it’s been fun everyone! Thank you for reading! Do not fret; you will see the beloved couple again. I have an idea that involves the Avengers and another favorite ship of mine. Again, thank you all for the support and I’ll see you again soon!


End file.
